


Juliet and Romeo

by jvo_taiski



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anyways, Arranged Marriages, F/M, Hermione is a BAMF, I was like 12 when i wrote this, Low-key crack, Shakespeare parody, This is on wattpad, blaise is an icon, but it goes on a tangent, dramione - Freeform, fuck theo's dad, hermione is a weasley, ig it's fluffy?, my language is foul so i apologise in advance, non-magic au, personally i think it's hilarious but that's just me, snape is draco's nanny, they have swords, thought why not put it on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 32,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvo_taiski/pseuds/jvo_taiski
Summary: A retelling of the classic tale starring HERMIONE GRANGER as ROMEO and DRACO MALFOY as JULIET.The centuries-old feud between the House of Weasley and the House of Malfoy is still simmering just below the surface despite Prince Dumbledore's orders that they stop fighting on pain of death.But when the sole Malfoy heir falls in love with a Weasley, their worlds get flipped upside down. Is their connection strong enough to overcome an arranged marriage, old prejudices, boarding school and even Draco Malfoy's melodramatic flair? Hermione damn well hopes so.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 7





	1. CAST LIST

**Author's Note:**

> as it says in the tags i was pretty young when i started this on Wattpad but it's fun and silly and (I think) the shitty prose has been somewhat revised :))
> 
> actually it gets kind of angsty  
> but i think i'm hilarious so read on

Introducing our lovely character parallels:   
The actual prose starts in the next chapter lol 

ROMEO: Hermione Granger (Emma Watson)

JULIET: Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton)

LORD AND LADY MONTAGUE: Mr and Mrs Weasley (Mark Williams and Julie Walters)

LORD AND LADY CAPULET: Mr and Mrs Malfoy (Jason Isaacs and Helen McCrory)

PRINCE ESCALUS: Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon)

MERCUTIO: Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe)

BENVOLIO: Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint)

NURSE: Severus Snape (Alan Rickman)

TYBALT: Theodore Nott (no idea who this guy is) 

PARIS: Pansy Parkinson (Scarlett Byrne)

SAMPSON AND GREGORY: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle (Jamie Waylett and Josh Herdman)

ABRAM: Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis)

THE APOTHECARY: Mundungus Fletcher (Andy Linden)


	2. PROLOGUE

Vincent Crabbe downed the last of his ale and left the pub to join his mate, Goyle. Gregory Goyle lit his cigarette and the two stood in silence for a while, watching the smoke catch in the dim light that leaked from the grimy windows of the building behind them. As two loyal servants from the House of Malfoy, it was natural instinct to peel away from the side of the pub and follow the clumsy shadow that hurried past.

Longbottom, the Weasley's gardener, had been having a bad day. Not only had the new, and completely useless, junior gardener forgotten to water the petunias, he'd also trampled the vegetable patch and destroyed some perfectly good shallots. Poor Dennis, the little fool, hadn't meant it but he was just as incompetent as his older brother. Longbottom was in despair. He'd sent Dennis out to by some seeds to get him out of the way, but Dennis hadn't returned.

Unfortunately, when Longbottom set out to search for the stupid boy, he'd been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice the two thick shadows leaning against _The_ _Hog's Head._ Crabbe and Goyle were surprisingly silent for their size as they stalked Longbottom through the cobbled streets.

Only a few blocks away from the House of Weasley, Longbottom was pushed to the ground. He jumped up to see the leering face of Crabbe, who threw him to the ground again and began to punch. Longbottom immediately began to fight back, but with a sinking feeling he heard the sound of a dagger being drawn behind him. With a sudden burst of strength, he threw Crabbe off of him and into a fire hydrant, where his head connected with a nasty crack, and turned to face Goyle, who brought his dagger down.

By the time the sentries heard the commotion, Longbottom was dead and Crabbe was dying. Goyle was arrested on the spot.

Dennis Creevey, who had spent an enjoyable afternoon watching Lord Harry Potter from afar, was sent to look for Longbottom the next day. He found Longbottom's old cap but didn't notice the bloodstains that he walked straight over. Nobody knew what had happened to gardener Longbottom until Prince Dumbledore announced that any more fighting between the Weasleys and the Malfoys would result in a one-way trip to Azkaban.

"The lives of two servants were taken last night and they were not the first. Any further conflict between the two families will be treated as a capital offence and punished with death, or depending on the severity of the misconduct, a life sentence in Azkaban." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol it starts kind of serious, wasn't expecting that i haven't read this in so long


	3. ONE

The delicate rosy, champagney smell that drifted in and out of sequins and satin was not at all what Hermione had been expecting. It was all quite disappointing, actually. There were candles instead of skulls, frills where she imagined spikes and big bay windows where there should've been steel bars. It just didn't look evil enough.

Hermione longed to remove her mask in the sticky heat but didn't dare. Getting caught now would be useless—she hadn't heard anything of possible importance. Anyone else would've given up by then, after three hours of nothing but vapid gossip and the clink of expensive glasses, but Hermione was a resilient girl. She relentlessly joined in with insipid conversations and mingled with glittering Malfoy nobles with sophisticated expressions under elaborately decorated masks. Every word spoken was careful and eloquent and completely meaningless, and flowed out of painted lips in a steady river.

When the big clock finally struck eleven Hermione almost decided to just screw it and leave but in the process of sneaking towards the door she found herself caught up in a conversation with a young man. She'd accidentally bumped into him while he was helping himself to a glass of champagne. He jumped guiltily, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Oh! I am sorry, sir."

"Why, that's quite all right. Care for a dance?" his careful formalities sounded smooth and natural, just like every other person in the house. He adjusted his mask—some sort of stoat or weasel by the looks of it—and offered her a hand.

Hermione saw no reasonable way of refusing such a polite (and genuine—unlike everyone else there) offer so she made up her mind to do the one thing that she promised Ron and Harry she wouldn't do—get herself noticed. Only she wasn't quite sure how to get onto the topic she wanted.

Instead she immediately proceeded to start a boring conversation with him as they whirled around other jewelled masks.

At that point, he was focusing more on the way her small, red mouth that danced as she talked, rather than the actual conversation.

"...and the Prince should definitely sack the advisor, he's a fool. Did you hear about the shipping incident last week? They say it was the advisor's poor planning. And I must say, I agree." Hermione paused her meaningless monologue and glanced at the boy.

He quickly snapped his gaze from her mouth. "Huh? I mean, yes, of course, I agree. That advisor really is an idiot—what's his face Lockheart?"

"Yeah." Said Hermione, suspiciously.

The boy cleared his throat awkwardly as the song finished and led her to the edge of the dance floor once again. This was where he normally said thank you for the dance; it was a pleasure meeting you, blah, blah, blah. However, he felt that there was more to this mysterious girl than a buck-toothed mask and a vague introduction. Everything that had come out of her mouth was waffle, but carefully disguised waffle so anyone might think she was just dull and easily forgotten.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked in a split-second decision.

However, she accepted the drink he'd taken from a passing servant with a frown. "That servant... she seems awfully young." Her voice was laced with suspicion.

"Uh, yeah, she's part of the Young Delinquent Reformatory Programme." He couldn't understand the fire that blazed from her eyes at that, or the way she pursed her lips until they were nothing but a pale line.

"You don't think that perhaps, it's a little _inhumane_ to be forcing children to wait on those of a higher social status, without getting paid, without getting a proper education, without getting a choice?"

"Those kids are delinquents, from St Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Children—"

"Oh, so that makes them not human, does it?" Hermione raged, all thoughts of being subtle gone. "It's violating basic human rights, and don't you know it!"

By then, the blonde boy was also getting a bit annoyed. "Who are you anyway?"

"A representative from the S.P.U.D." she answered tartly.

"Spud?" he was thrown off guard.

"The S.P.U.D! The Society for the Protection of Underage Delinquents!"

A gatecrasher, then. There was no way in hell his father would have invited someone like that. But a damn good gatecrasher, only with too much passion—he never would've noticed that she wasn't supposed to be there otherwise. But, he felt he should at least try to defend his opinion and he liked hearing her talk anyway. "Those children were doomed to be stuck in an institute for the rest of their childhood, and no chance of going to college in later life, or getting a job! This programme helps them, it teaches them vital life skills—"

"Oh, like what, total obedience? They're basically slaves!"

"No, they're provided with healthy food and drink, a bed, and taught basic literacy, maths, sciences and sport! That's more than can be said about St Brutus'! Most children that go to that place end up on the streets or in prison. With this programme, they're guaranteed a job once they reach 18!"

"Are you paid to advertise this barbaric programme? It's nothing more than child labour! Those kids are a product of a harsh and unjust society, they shouldn't be judged and looked down upon, and then put into positions that people can pity, then fawn over the trustees of the Young Delinquent Reformatory Programme, who care for nothing except their reputation!"

The blonde boy involuntarily took a step back as Hermione seethed. When the flow of her ranting slowed down, he quickly made an obnoxious comment so she would continue. At first, he'd tried to make intelligent counter-arguments to put across his opinion but quickly gave up when he realised that he like hearing her talk too much. He liked the way her hands flew around her face as she spoke, the way her jaw tightened and how she held her head high as she openly criticised the people whose party she was at because she thought they were wrong so she'd try and stop it.

"—I don't think the house of Malfoy should be taking part in this ridiculous tradition, it's completely savage and outdated—"

"Yes but aren't people of noble blood superior to peasant children, criminals no less? I think the Malfoys were very generous to carry on with this programme."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but she saw the half-smile he was trying to conceal. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"Yes. I mean no, definitely not." he smirked as she glared. "So, what brings your passion for abolishing the Delinquent Programme?"

She opened her mouth to answer but at that moment the clock struck midnight. There was a rustle of faint laughter and shuffling of long evening dresses as people began taking off their masks.

He hesitantly half-lifted his hand. "Would you care to show me what's underneath that rabbit mask?"

"Rabbit?"

"That is what your mask is supposed to be, right?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione looked highly affronted. "It's a beaver, if you please!"

"It looks nothing like a beaver."

"Says the one with a deranged polecat on your head!"

He snapped off his mask to reveal his ultimate death stare. "It's a ferret!"

Unlike most of the victims of his infamous death stare, Hermione didn't flinch. She took off her mask as well, as she glowered right back, forgetting that she was supposed to be incognito.

Slowly, the noise of the dance made its way back into their little bubble. They simultaneously glanced around to check if they'd been noticed but nobody was paying them the slightest attention. Somewhat nervously, they made eye contact again.

Hermione was still flushed and her hair was frizzy. The boy bit his lip nervously and ran a hand through his blonde hair—had he pissed her off too much? He wanted to speak to her again and again and again, he knew that much, but he didn't even know her name.

She broke the silence with a small giggle and he glanced at her in surprise. Before long, they were both laughing like idiots, at the stupid conversation they'd just had, and couldn't stop for ages.

At the edge of the dance floor, in a shadowy alcove, a different young man stood with his jaw clenched, watching the whole interaction. Ha made a violent move towards them and reached for his sword. However, a firm hand tightened around his shoulder before he could go a step further.

"Stop, Theodore," drawled the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy.

"But Uncle—the stupid Weasley girl—"

"I have noticed her, fool. What did you want to about it?"

"I'll go challenge her to a duel! It's a disgrace to the Malfoy family, tomorrow she'll go and boast to all of her stupid friends that she crashed a Malfoy party and we'll look like idiots!"

"I hate the Weasleys just as much as you Theodore, but Prince Dumbledore has banned any fighting. Do you intent on spending the rest of your life in Azkaban?" when Theodore didn't answer and stared at his shoes instead, Lucius continued. "Now, if you can't keep your head, leave and sulk in your room. But there shall be no fighting in this house tonight."

Lucius watched Theodore stalking away, and then beckoned to the shadows on his right. A greasy-haired sallow-faced man with maliciously glinting eyes sidled out of them.

"Go and tell the boy that his father wishes to speak to him. Right now."

"Of course, sir." Snape smiled unpleasantly and sidled off across the dance floor. 


	4. TWO

When Hermione finally got back from the Malfoy's masquerade, she found her two best friends asleep on armchairs, probably waiting up for her. The click of the door shutting startled Harry awake.

"Hermione! Its 2am! Where have you been?"

Lord Harry Potter had been one of Hermione's two greatest friends as far as she could remember but she found herself hating the both of them as her twin Ron opened his eyes as well.

"Mione!" Where've you been?"

"Did you get caught?"

"Bloody hell, woman, you realise it's 2 in the morning, right?"

"I thought you'd be back sooner..."

"—told you SPUD was stupid!"

"It was fine! Honestly!" Hermione snapped, losing her patience. "I'll tell you in the morning, I'm going to bed."

She brushed off their concerns about her temper with an "I'm just tired" and went straight to bed. Alone in the dark, she refused to think about it: the sneaking suspicion that Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her generation, may be crushing on a certain blonde twat who she was meant to hate. Nope, definitely not. She pushed the thought deep into the furthest corners of her heart and did her best to lock it in.

And then did her best to ignore the fact that it definitely wasn't working. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how the fuck is this a chapter


	5. THREE

In hindsight, Hermione never expected to speak to him again, much less end up in his bedroom at 1o'clock at night. For the third night in a row.

As she laughed at something Draco Malfoy said she had to remind herself again: there was no goddamn way she liked him. Forget the fact that he was a Malfoy, of all people—they'd only met a few days ago. This was ridiculous. But there was no denying it, she supposed. Hermione and Draco had hit off better than a double act. They'd got very close, very quickly.

After the masquerade, both had initially been horrified at the discovery of the other's identity—but the day after, chance had led them together on market day. Between a jeweller's stall and a carpet shop, Draco summoned the courage to speak to her again.

"Do you hate me?"

At first, Hermione could only stare in shock at the bluntness of the question. "Really smooth, Malfoy. Do you hate me? Now that's a conversation starter and a half.

He shrugged and waited for her to answer.

"No. I guess I don't." she admitted, reluctantly.

However, the look of simple joy that crossed his face just from her simple statement was definitely worth it.

"Hey, so..." Draco Malfoy rarely stumbled over his words but he couldn't help it, not when Hermione was begrudgingly smiling back at him like that. "So... do you want to hang out? Sometime?"

He could barely believe his own daring. Asking his arch-enemy to hang out wasn't something he'd thought about doing before.

"Yeah, I guess I'd like that, but how? We can't be seen in public together, imagine the scandal!"

As if on cue, Draco's babysitter Snape ("he's my 'tutor'—but honestly he acts like a bloody nanny") appeared out of the corner of their eyes.

"Draco—" started Hermione.

"Quick, behind here!" Draco pulled her out of sight behind a brightly woven divan on display. Hermione slapped herself mentally and tried to stop herself from blushing at their close proximity. He was taller than she remembered and his hand was still resting on the small of her back.

"You know Madam Pudifoot's, the coffee shop?"

"I think so."

"Can you meet me there at 12o'clock?"

"Yes, I'll be there," she replied without hesitation. "Now shoo, before your babysitter finds us here."

"As you wish." He gave her a cocky half-smile.

"Oh bog off, ferret."

However, when midnight came and went but there was still no sign of a blonde head and teasing smile, Hermione began to reconsider her confession that she didn't hate him. It was nearly 1o'clock in the morning and she was cold and tired. If there was anything that she hated more than anti-SPUD supporters, it was people who thought they could make a fool of her.

"Stupid," she muttered to herself. "He's a Malfoy, what did you expect?" she cursed herself agreeing to meet up with him, especially at such a ridiculous time in the night. He was probably laughing with his friends about her—the dumb Weasley girl who thought a Malfoy boy was capably of liking her.

Just as she began to storm her way back home, furiously scolding herself the whole way, something occurred to her: could he have possibly been talking about 12o'clock in the afternoon, as opposed to midnight?

Meanwhile, in the Malfoy Manor, Draco was moping and refusing to accept the he was moping. He couldn't sleep and knew it was stupid—he'd only known the girl for a few hours. And she was a Weasley, goddamn it.

With a sigh, he gave on sleeping completely and sat up. The silk sheets rustled smoothly against his touch.

Through gauzy curtains, he could see the moon—it was very bright and round, casting strange patterns and shadows around his bedroom. The paintings on the walls looked strange and muted in the soft white light. What used to be a vibrant explosion of colour was now faded and ghostly...

He may have drifted off, just sitting there, but was startled back to reality by a deafening crescendo of screeching.

Those bloody peacocks. Draco had no idea what was going through his father's head when Lucius had decided to buy no fewer than 20 obnoxious albino peacocks. That was 10 years ago—now there were several generations of them. The whole estate was infested.

Draco stomped out onto his balcony and looked for something to throw at the stupid creatures. He'd just picked up a small potted plant when a shadow moved on the outskirts of the orchard: something that definitely wasn't a peacock. He froze, and then gently lowered the pot plant again.

Nothing moved for another minute.

He just about decided that the figure was a trick of the light when it stepped out of the cover of the trees and lowered its hood.

He nearly had a heart attack. "Weasley?"

"Shhh! Your doorman nearly caught me!"

"Well, what in Merlin's name are you doing at my house at this time?" Draco couldn't help being self-conscious of the fact that he was in stripy pyjamas and his hair probably looked like shit.

She opened her mouth to say something but Draco interrupted. "Never mind, you'd better come up—explain later. Wait here for a sec."

"Alright, but hurry!"

He dashed back into his bedroom to grab something he hadn't used in years—his rope ladder. Pausing only to give his hair a quick fix, he ran back to the balcony and threw it down—when he was young, he used it to play castles and knights. Nowadays he found the stairs slightly more comfortable.

As he watched Hermione climb up, her dark robes billowing behind her, he was seized with a surreal realisation—this whole situation was exactly like the games he used to play when he was young. He felt like a damsel in distress about to be saved by a dashing hero. A midnight escape, just like when he used to play with Pansy and Theo—only he was normally the one doing the saving.

Apparently Hermione was on the same wavelength because when she reached the top she smiled at him charmingly: "Well hello there, my good lady. What brings you to the top of a tower like this?"

"Why, a witch has imprisoned me by an evil enchantment that can only be broken by the kiss of a noble knight, much like you, dear sir."

"What a bit of luck! I'll be honoured to save you, m'lady." Hermione smiled cheekily and Draco almost melted. She was eye level with him now, balancing carefully on the top rung of the rope ladder. She leaned over the balcony towards him. "Unfortunately, it's been a long journey and my bones are weary—are you going to invite your saviour in for tea?"

"Certainly," Draco forced himself to stop staring. "Allow me to assist, kind sir." He lifted her over railing and onto his balcony with ease, before showing her inside.

"Allow me to take your cloak, sir. Was your quest terribly difficult?"

"Alas, it was—this fortress is guarded by a hoard of evil dragons. They're white, feathered and taloned beasts. I barely escaped with my life."

Draco snorted with laughter. "Yeah, I'll admit—those peacocks are pretty vicious. But on another note, what are you doing here at—what is it?—half past one in the morning? And where were you this afternoon?"

"Uh, yeah about that..." Hermione blushed and bit her lip. "I may have thought you meant 12o'clock as in midnight..."

And just like that, whatever remained of Draco's bad mood evaporated as he tried to contain his amusement.

"But then I realised that you probably meant midday and you probably thought I bailed on you."

"So you came sneaking around my house in the middle of the night?"

"No, that was an accident. I wrote a letter. I was going to post it in your letterbox but the doorman nearly saw me. I had to run but then I nearly got attacked by those bloody birds. No, stop laughing, it's not funny—they're dangerous!"

"You're insane, you are."

The next night Hermione came, she brought him an apple. She stole it from the Malfoy orchard right in front of him, but the gesture was funny. "For my poor damsel in distress—a token."

"I don't know—it looks kind of dodgy to me. And besides, the witch was pretty clear about it. Only a kiss can save me." He quipped.

"Just take it, peasant. And help me over this stupid railing."

By the third night, Draco was forced to admit to himself that he was completely pathetic. These night-time meetings were the highlight of his day and he spent the rest of his time daydreaming about Hermione and the way she made him feel. And the most depressing part about the whole situation was that he knew it couldn't last. There were the obvious reasons, such as his sleep schedule suffering but even if he spent the whole of the summer holidays nocturnal, he knew it couldn't continue when school started again. And besides, he had no idea how Hermione managed to sneak out of her house this many times in a row and still not get caught.

"I have to pretend I have a secret boyfriend! Harry and Ron won't leave me alone about it. I'm scared that they're going to try and follow me at some point." She complained.

Draco smirked. "Meanwhile, my friends are also convinced that I'm head-over-heels with someone—they say I'm always staring into space with a dreamy look on my face. I think it's just sleep deprivation, personally." He teased.

Hermione tried to stop herself blushing. "Watch it, Malfoy. If I didn't know better, I'd say that sounds an awful lot like flirting." She smiled up at him innocently.

"And what if it is? A princess doesn't need to wait for someone else to make the first move." Retorted Draco, looking as lofty as he could.

"Shush, ferret. A bit of patience never hurt anybody."

They lay there in silence for a bit. He watched her lying on the floor (he couldn't remember how she'd ended up there) from his bed. All teasing aside, he really wanted nothing more than to pull her up from the carpet and into his arms. He liked her way more than he was prepared to admit. In just a few days she'd become (excuse the cliché) the light of his life—it was honestly pathetic.

Besides, he had no right even speaking to her, let alone having feelings for her. That damn bushy-haired, buck-toothed whirlwind of wit and strong opinions was going to be the death of him. But even if she wasn't a Weasley, he doubted that it could have been any better.

"I'm engaged." He found himself saying abruptly, on the second week of their midnight conversations. By then, his sleep schedule was anything between 4am and midday and he knew that Hermione had 6 brothers, one sister and a cat; that she was literally the only non-ginger in her family; he knew her best friends were her twin and Lord Harry Potter; he knew her birthday, her favourite things, her hobbies and interests; and he knew that her middle name was Jean-Granger after her godmother. He also knew that he'd dug himself a very big hole. He liked her a bit too much to let go now.

"I'm engaged."

"What?" Hermione sat up so fast that she only just missed hitting her head on Draco's chin. For some reason, she enjoyed lying on his carpet.

"I don't like it. My parents arranged it. She's Senator Parkinson's daughter—rich, influential and perfect for a Malfoy Heir." He added bitterly, avoiding Hermione's gaze. He was scared that it would stop her from coming.

"Not... not _Pansy Parkinson!_ She's a cow!"

"And don't I know it. But what can I do?" he finally summoned to courage to look into her eyes.

She didn't look disgusted, just shocked. "But... haven't you told your parents that you don't like her? Does she even like you?"

Draco sighed. "That's not how it works."

"Your parents won't let you choose who you marry? How is that allowed?"

In all honesty, Draco didn't know either. That was just how it was. It had always been made clear to him; from a very young age he knew that when he grew up, he was going to marry Pansy Parkinson. Now that he thought about it, Pansy probably didn't even like him either but she was alright with that. The marriage was practical and beneficial to both parties and that was really all there was to it. His parents were married like that: love was supposed to come after the wedding.

He was just a sentimental idiot, foolish enough to let his feelings run ahead of him.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I'm really not being fair now but I like you. I really like you—oh for fuck's sake; I really shouldn't be saying that after I've just admitted I'm engaged." He buried his head in his hands.

"Oi," she pulled his hands away. "Look at me."

He pulled his most melodramatic face possible. To his surprise, she rolled her eyes.

"You know what I think? I think that this princess needs to grow a pair and stop being so tragic. Nobody can get you out of this one but you."

"It's not that simple..." he whined.

"And why shouldn't it be?"

It wasn't fair, he thought. She was wearing that expression again, her mouth set, jaw tight, head held high—how could he possibly argue against that?

When she leaned in to kiss him, it felt like maybe there was hope—maybe he could dare hope for a future without Pansy or his parents' wishes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> draco malfoy as juliet is comedy gold fight me


	6. FOUR

Blaise Zabini was not having any of it and it was annoying Draco. He had no right to be so nosy.

"For the last time, I do not have a secret girlfriend!"

"Bullshit. Draco, mate, please stop trying to deny it and tell me who she is."

"I'm gonna marry Pansy and you know it."

"Yeah, which is why I'm so curious. Who the hell managed to steal your heart away?"

"None of your business."

"Aha! You've confessed to your sins!" Blaise slammed his coffee cup down so hard that people from other tables turned to stare.

"Shut up. Bastard." Hissed Draco.

"Touché. So, who is it?"

"That's absolutely none of your business."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm not letting go of the biggest piece of gossip since Prince Dumbledore admitted to fucking the brains out of Grindelwald."

"Shut it, Blaise. It's not a big deal."

"Oh, but it is. A Malfoy heir, cheating? What's wrong with Pansy anyway?"

"Would _you_ want to date Pansy?"

With a sigh, Blaise stirred yet another cube of sugar into his drink and leaned forwards. "No—" he admitted reluctantly. "—but that proves nothing. You know I'm about as straight as cooked spaghetti."

"So? That's entirely beside the point!"

"I think you'll find that's completely within the point. Would you date Theo?"

"Aw hell no—but that's because he's my cousin, Blaise, you nasty piece of shit. I don't want to date Pansy because she's an annoying cow."

"Something which I think is entirely beside the point. She's good looking and she's rich. Besides, she knows your middle name." he leaned back on his chair, maintaining eye contact as he took another sip of coffee.

Draco stared at him, speechless. "My- my middle name? What the hell was that supposed to prove?" he spluttered.

"I don't know, but I think I won the argument."

For a moment, Draco managed to keep a straight face but had to break into a laugh when Blaise refused to break eye contact. "Middle name? Why, Blaise? Of all things..."

"Fuck, I don't know. Now who's the lucky lady?"

"I'm not telling you. Besides, Hermio—my girlfriend knows my middle name as well, I'll have you know."

"Hermio- hang on. No! No way! You're not telling me that you're seriously dating—"

Just as Blaise was coming to a sudden epiphany, Draco froze in alarm. He tried to play it off but it was too late. Blaise turned around and caught sight of Hermione walking in with Lord Potter and her twin, Ronald. She was doing a very good job of not noticing him.

"No... No fucking way!" gasped Blaise, very loudly.

"Shut UP," snapped Draco, his cheeks stained pink.

"No way!" he said again, this time quieter. "It can't be the Weasley girl? Unless it's Potter... there's no way it's her twin, though, even I wouldn't tap that."

Draco laughed in spite of himself. "You know I don't swing that way. And you can stop denying it too—you're desperate enough to snog whatever boy you can get," he added, somewhat defensively.

"Nah mate, I'm good looking enough to get as many guys as I want. I'm only single because I have standards. Unlike you, it seems..."

Draco scowled, still trying not to look over in Hermione's direction. "You don't even know her, how are you judging? Besides, even you have to admit she's good looking."

"Whatever you say, mate." Blaise's eyebrows were so far up his forehead that they were in danger of blending into his hairline. "How did you get from denying she existed to defending her honour in a space of five minutes?"

"Shut it." he muttered again.

Blaise was still shaking his head in disbelief. "Damn... what the hell. How long?"

"I don't know... I've known her for nearly two months and we've been dating for about one and a half I guess?"

Draco trailed off when he noticed Ron glaring at him from across the café. Did he know?

Thankfully, Blaise seemed to notice the tension and tossed back the remainder of his latte. "C'mon mate. You can tell me all about this girl in a bit."

Ron's scowl tracked them all the way to the door. Just before they stepped out, Blaise turned and threw him a roguish wink.

"You know, I take back what I said about Weasley before—gingers are hot when they're angry."

Draco snorted loudly.

***

It had been two hours and Ron wouldn't stop going on about it.

"The Zabini boy winked at me!" he wailed. "Why?"

"Yes, Ronald, we heard you the first time." Hermione rolled her eyes and took a sip of milkshake. "And I'll say it again: it's hardly weird considering you stared at them both all the way around the café!"

"I was just trying to figure out what you like so much about Malfoy."

"Well," Harry interjected. "He's bloody good looking for one."

Ron choked on his milkshake so violently that he nearly fell backwards into the fountain. A few pedestrians turned to stare.

"Genuinely though," said Harry, curiously. "I thought he was just a stuck up prick."

Hermione shrugged. "I like talking to him. He's-"

But exactly what Hermione thought about her boyfriend was never revealed because Ron had recovered from his coughing fit and was watching a group of boys standing across the square.

He shook her shoulder. "Hey, Mione. Isn't that Malfoy's wackjob cousin?"

"Yeah. Just ignore them."

"They keep staring at us." As if right on cure, as Ron spoke Theodore Nott started sauntering over towards them.

Harry put a hand on his sword. Hermione gave him a warning look.

"Does he know?" muttered Ron.

Hermione shook her head, all the while not taking her eyes off Nott or the people that he was with.

"Nott." Said Hermione coolly, not bothering to stand up from her seat.

"Weasley. It's been a while."

"Yes, it has. The past three years were very nice without you in them."

Theodore feigned surprise. "Wow, I'm hurt! I thought about catching up with you at the Malfoy Ball but then I remembered... you weren't on the guest list."

Harry and Ron both swivelled in their seats to stare at Hermione. "You said nobody recognised you!"

She shrugged. "Guilty."

Theodore leered. "Either way, Weasley, I wanted to fight you right there. I would've fought you on the spot for dishonouring my family name but I was stopped. And thinking about it, I'm glad I didn't... that evening must have been the highlight of your life, it would have been a shame to have ruined it, especially as all you Weasleys live in a bin with their crack ass mother who couldn't afford a party like that if she spent every penny!"

Hermione put a hand on Ron's knee in warning. She could tell he was getting pissed off.

"Actually Nott," Harry cut in smoothly. "I think the reason that you didn't fight her was because you knew that she can kick your ass. Don't speak about her mother like that."

"As if you can talk about mothers, Potter!" Not when the only one you've got is dead."

Hermione and Ron tried to pull him back but Harry stood up in rage. "Is that right, Nott? Well at least my mother actually loved me. Where's yours again? Left you and dad to go to Paris, right? I bet she's shagging another guy right now—"

Hermione tried to grab Harry but he shrugged her off. Everyone knew that Lucius Malfoy's flighty sister was a touchy subject.

Theodore snarled and shoved Harry backwards. "Don't you dare speak about my mother!"

"You brought it up, idiot. Besides, I don't even know why I'm still bothering talk to a failed abortion—"

Theodore Nott kneed Harry Potter in the balls.

"Hey!" Hermione and her twin jumped up simultaneously.

"What are you gonna do, Weasels?" jeered Nott.

When Hermione threw the first punch, not a single thought about the consequences went through her head. What had Dumbledore said about fighting between Weasleys and Malfoys? Something about Azkaban? Oh well.

Next to her, Ron was on the floor wrestling both of Nott's friends. Harry had joined in. it was difficult to tell what was going on—there were limbs everywhere.

 _Ouch._ Nott had managed to get her in the eye—that was going to leave a bruise. But Hermione was tough. If living with 7 siblings had taught her anything, it was how to fight.

Hermione pulled back her fist and hit Nott so hard that he fell backwards into the fountain just before the city sentries finally ran over to break up the fight. 


	7. FIVE

Needless to say, Mrs Weasley was none too pleased when she was called to pick up two of her children from the police station. Hermione supposed she deserved the sound lecture that followed. And being grounded until term started. But she couldn't have expected what followed. 

She'd never felt like hating her mother in her life—that was, until she heard the next words come out of Mrs Weasley's mouth.

"You, young lady, are going to boarding school next September! No—no arguing! Your father and I have already signed you up."

"But—" spluttered Hermione, completely horrified.

Mrs Weasley ploughed on in her rage. "No buts! Your behaviour was absolutely disgraceful, appalling, and inexcusable!"

"Mum! Nott insulted you and kneed Harry _down there_ first! Besides, it was only a fist fight; it isn't like we used swords or anything."

" _Just a fist fight?"_ shrieked Mrs Weasley. "If you used a sword, you'd still be in the police station, or even in prison by now! You know what prince Dumbledore said: anymore fighting between Weasleys and Malfoys will send you straight to Azkaban! I know you hate the Malfoys—"

Ron, who had just walked in, and who knew perfectly well who Hermione was currently dating, snorted loudly.

Mrs Weasley swelled furiously and rounded on Ron, who quickly tried to mask his mistake with a violent coughing fit.

"Is something funny, Ronald?"

"No... nothing at all."

"I should hope not. Because your father and I had a little chat regarding the incident... you're going to boarding school!"

" _WHAT?_ " Ron shrieked, dropping the ice that he had been holding against a nasty bruise on his cheek. "Mum, you can't be serious..."

"Believe me when I say I'm very serious, Ronald, and be grateful it's not worse. You're both going to Hogwarts next year, no arguing. We're going shopping for school robes tomorrow."

With that, Mrs Weasley sent them both to their rooms, still muttering under her breath.

***

At half past 1 in the morning, Hermione slipped out of bed and fumbled for the lamp on her bedside table. But before she managed to start changing out of her pyjamas, there came a very soft tap at her window—she froze. Very carefully, she peeked out of her curtains and almost had a heart attack. Draco Malfoy was sitting outside her window, having evidently climbed the tree next to it. This was no mean feat, considering Hermione's bedroom was on the 3rd floor.

"What the bloody hell..." she hissed as she opened the window to let him in. "Draco are you stupid? You could have fallen."

"Well hello there, darling. Always a pleasure." He gave her a cocky smile.

"Why did you come to mine? I was about to head over."

"You always come to mine. Besides, you're like an hour late."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. My older twin brothers were sneaking out at the same time that I was sneaking out, and I didn't want them to know where I was going."

"And anyway, you always come to mine so I thought that it would only be fair to come to yours at some point."

Hermione rolled her eyes and hastened to explain that she had three brothers and a younger sister who all had rooms in the same wing of the house. Draco admitted that he had not thought that through. "We'll just have to whisper then."

"Yes," warned Hermione. "We're going to have to be _very_ quiet."

Draco started giggling at what that implied. Hermione turned pink. "Oh, shut it you immature brat! That's not what I meant and you know it!"

She sat up and looked down at him lying on her bed. His eyes were closed and she could still see the traces of a laugh etched around the corners of her mouth. As always, his light hair seemed to make a halo around his pale face, which softened his otherwise pointy features. Hell, even his eyebrows were light... Hermione remembered what Fred and George had once told her, about the correlation between eyebrow colour and pube colour. She blushed and the thought and quickly banished it from her head.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco had opened his eyes again. Hermione decided she liked him like this the best. In the honey coloured glow of her bedside lamp, even his steel-grey eyes were silver and muted.

"Term starts next week." She blurted out.

Draco waited patiently for her to finish her train of thought.

"I don't think we can be together. We can't carry this on anymore."

Her heart almost broke at the pained, vulnerable expression that her simple sentence put on Draco's face. Any hint of the easy mood that he was in evaporated. He looked like an abandoned puppy. "You were the one who told me... you said..."

Hermine hadn't cried in over three years but seeing that broken, betrayed face on her boyfriend really did it for her. She struggled not to let it show but a single tear managed to escape and leave a shiny track down her cheek. "I'm going to boarding school. In Scotland. I won't be able to see you, ever."

"Hermione..." He reached out a hand. He wasn't sure whether it was to comfort her or himself. On one hand, he'd never seen her look so vulnerable but on the other—she'd hurt him. Some part of him had shuttered down and he didn't know if he'd be able to look at her in the same way again. The cool, logical part inside of him tried to tell him that he was being pathetic—they'd only just turned sixteen. They'd only known each other for two months. It wasn't meant to last. But try as he might, he couldn't persuade himself to feel that way. It _hurt_ goddamn it and he could feel himself becoming numb and the cool Malfoy mask settling over his face.

But before he could do anything, they both heard the footsteps at the same time. There was a mad scramble as Draco dived underneath the bed and Hermione jumped underneath the covers.

"Hermione?" Ron knocked softly and stuck his head around the door. "I saw a light underneath your door. You good? I thought you were sneaking out."

Hermione glared at her twin as he waltzed into the room uninvited and sat down on her beanbag. "I went downstairs to get food. Do you want some? I took a load of cake from the fridge."

That made Hermione soften slightly. "Yes, actually. And Draco, you can get out of there it's just my idiot twin."

"Malfoy?!" exclaimed Ron, horrified to see a blonde head emerge from underneath the bed.

"Weasley." Draco replied, distastefully.

"What—you weren't—you weren't— _you know?_ " Ron was a red as Hermione.

"Gosh no, Weasley," even Draco looked slightly pink about what Ron was implying. "She just broke up with me, in fact."

The bitterness in his voice made Hermione wince.

"Malfoy, mate," Ron's tone surprised Hermione. It was almost gentle. "I know it's tough but she's away for over three months—"

"Shhh!" Hermione heard the shuffling from the landing first. "Oh no! Fred and George are back already!"

Draco just had time to scramble back underneath the bed before a very drunk Fred and George stumbled into the room.

"Ooh, Mother's meeting are we? Thought we heard you talking." Fred sat down heavily on the bed and snatched a piece of cake from Ron.

"Hey!" he slapped Fred's hand away. "What are you doing back so early anyway? You said you were coming home at, like, 4am!"

George sighed tragically. "That party had a very bad girl: guy ratio. All the good looking chicks were taken by the time we got there. Besides, Angelina Johnson was there snogging some other bloke's face off—it made it a bit awkward for poor Freddie."

"But what the hell, we did learn some new stuff—who the fuck would've known that Marcus Flint has a thing for old Woodsy?"

Ron stopped eating his cake in shock. "No way—Woodsy, like, Oliver Woods?"

With a grin, Fred continued. "Yep. Flint as well, of all people. You know he's actually not half bad after he's had a couple. He acts like a douche most of the time, normally, but boy does he have gossip. Hey 'Mione, you know Nott had to go to hospital to get his nose fixed where you punched him?"

"Yeah," George grinned sadistically. "I don't think we properly congratulated you on that—we taught you well. And apparently his dad—his dad—" at that point, he seemed to be too overcome with giggles to get it out.

Fred continued for him. "Apparently his wasn't impressed with his behaviour—he was really pissed off when he found out that a Weasley girl decked him. In fact, he had the same idea as dear old mum—Nott's gonna be attending the same boarding school as you guys!"

Ron groaned. "Oh, for fuck's sake, as if it could get any worse."

"Oh, but it can! You know who else is attending?" George paused, an evil grin on his face.

"Malfoy!" crowed Fred in glee. "The poncy little Malfoy boy!"

Draco froze from underneath the bed.

"What?" gasped Hermione, involuntarily.

"Yep! Oh, you guys are gonna have so much fun there. Flint gets all of the gossip from his parent's tea parties. Apparently, old Lucius is concerned that Draco boy has a secret girlfriend even though he's supposed to be engaged to Senator Parkinson's girl—what's her face, Petunia?"

"Pansy," Hermione supplied, faintly.

Fred was too drunk to notice anything amiss. "Yeah, that one! Well, she goes to Hogwarts too so his parents think that will encourage them to bond or something." He chuckled.

"Personally," said George with a snide smile. "I think Malfoy's a bit too poncy to get a girlfriend. Have you seen his clothes? I bet his nanny, Snape, still helps him change."

"Who's nanny helps them change?" The youngest Weasley sibling, Ginny, chose that moment to walk in. "You lot are being quite loud you know. Did you guys manage to get laid?" her last comment was addressed to Fred and George.

"Alas, no," replied Fred, mournfully. "Not enough hoes—"

"FRED WEASLEY!"

"Oh fuck."

Molly Weasley slammed on the main light in Hermione's bedroom, which flooded it with a considerable harsher glare than before. Draco held his breath and tried to hide even further underneath the bed.

"Don't think that I don't know that you snuck out! You're grounded!"

"Mum!"

"And what are all of you doing in here? Ginny, Ron, get straight back to your rooms and into bed! Fred, George... I'll deal with you in the morning. Hermione, go to sleep."

Four Weasley children trailed out of the room, followed by their mother who did one last sweeping glare around the room before shutting the lights off and slamming the door. Hermione sighed in relief and flopped back down on her bed. Draco let out the breath he was holding and tried to get his heart rate back down. That was a bit too close. If any one of Hermione's family had spotted him, he was pretty sure that he would have been throttled.

"Draco?" after a while, Hermione finally spoke in a small voice. "Did you know? About you going to Hogwarts?"

It took a while for him to respond. "No. They haven't told me yet."

"I'm sorry," Hermione spoke in an even smaller voice. "For saying that we were better apart. I was scared. I shouldn't have... I just thought that maybe it would save us a lot of pain."

He could understand Hermione's reasoning but it still hurt. He was silent for a bit. "You know what else I didn't know? I didn't know that you punched my cousin in his face." He said it to try and divert the conversation but he couldn't keep the accusing tone out of his voice.

"I assumed that someone would have told you. Besides, he deserved it."

"Nobody told me."

"Well your family are probably too ashamed to accept that your jackass cousin got hit in the face by a Weasley." There was a little bit more ice in that than Hermione had intended but she was too proud to admit that.

"Oh, look at the time." He replied, equally coldly. "I should get going."

"Yes, you should." It hurt Hermione to see him leaving out of the window and across the lawn without looking back once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone remind me transfer more of this crack from Wattpad later


	8. CHAPTER 6

_Don't come over, mum noticed that I snuck out._

Hermione's heart sunk as she read the words before her. Did they contain a bit of malice? She knew that she'd hurt him in a moment of weakness but enough for him to tell her to fuck off?

"It's fine 'Mione. He probably just needs a bit of space," said Ron, in a soothing tone. "I mean, you did just dump him."

"Not helping," whined Hermione, morosely glaring at her school shopping list. "The point is, I didn't mean to dump him."

Ron threw a few more rolls of parchment in their basket. "Oh shut it, woman. The guy liked you enough to rock up at your place at 2am just to chat."

Hermione smiled at her twin. Even though he clearly didn't like the guy she was dating, he was still trying to support her because he could see that she was happy. "Thanks Ron. Should we go get dress robes next?"

"Yeah sure. We might meet Harry there, actually."

"Harry? Why? Harry never wears dress robes."

Ron stared at Hermione incredulously. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

Ron grinned. "Well it seems that Sirius and Remus had a chat with dear old mum—and t seems that Harry is now going to Hogwarts as well!"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Goodness, it looks like Hogwarts is going to be a very busy place this year!"

***

As it turned out, Fred and George Weasley happened to be well informed. Draco's mother had caught him sneaking trying to sneak back into the manor and wasted no time coldly informing him that they were sending him to boarding school. Although his face showed nothing but horror, something happy bubbled inside him. He could stay with Hermione, wrath of his parents be damned. Then, he remembered that she'd dumped him.

A voice in his head tried to remind him that she'd only done it because she was trying to avoid more pain than necessary but the rational part in his brain was quickly buried in his feelings of hurt, betrayal and bitterness.

He spent the rest of the night in a turbulent roller coaster of emotion and self-doubt. One moment he was convinced that Hermione had used Hogwarts as an excuse to dump him and in the next he was cursing himself for leaving her so quickly when it was clear to see that she was just upset and needed to talk. But through it all, the overarching feeling of resentment lingered over his mind. She'd hurt him, whether she meant to or not.

And that was how his mother found him in the morning—a sleep deprived, angsty, emotional mess.

"Get up, darling. We're going school shopping."

Somehow, in his bleary state, Draco managed to realise that something wasn't right. "Where's Severus?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Snape. My tutor. Normally he wakes me up. You never take me shopping."

"Severus has found an alternative job."

"What? Why?" Draco finally sat up in bed. Despite his constant whining that Snape was basically a nanny, he had grown fond of the sallow-faced, sarcastic man.

Narcissa hastened to explain patiently that as he, Draco Malfoy, was going to Hogwarts next year, there was no need for him to have a private tutor anymore. "You'll be pleased to know that he's found an alternative position already. He will be a chemistry and potions professor at Hogwarts."

Draco groaned and flopped back onto the bed. The mention of Hogwarts reminded him of the past night and of his maybe-girlfriend.

Misunderstanding his reaction, Narcissa scowled. "Your father and I have agreed to send you to a boarding school for your own good. Don't be a foolish brat—it's an excellent school. I expect you to make the most of this opportunity."

He just gazed up at his mother sadly. "How long were you planning this without me knowing?"

"For a while, darling," Narcissa's gaze softened when she met her son's eyes but she didn't have the grace to look guilty about it. "We've thought about it ever since Pansy's parents enrolled her and you two started drifting apart. We enrolled you the minute we suspected you were seeing another girl. Don't look at me like that, darling—it's for your own good. You're lucky that your father doesn't know that you snuck out last night, or it would have been a lot worse."

Oh boy, didn't he know. Draco thanked whatever lucky stars he still had left that Lucius Malfoy was blissfully ignorant—Draco was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to stand up it his father ever found out that he was seeing another girl.

Truth be told, he wasn't too bothered about boarding school: he'd have to worry less about his slightly controlling father and besides, he'd get to see his best mates more often—Blaise had been attending Hogwarts since last year and if the Weasley twins' information was to be trusted, Theo would be there as well. Some pathetic, hopeful part of him was also grateful that Hermione would be there with him as well but he was too childish and sulky a mood to address that.

No, he wasn't concerned at all about the boarding school situation. It was more the fact that he was expected to date Pansy when he was fairly certain that he was in love with a _Weasley._

"Mother," he blurted out suddenly, before she could leave the room. If he'd been any less sleep deprived, he wouldn't have asked the stupid, rash question that came out of his mouth. But as it was, he could barely string a coherent sentence, let alone remember to keep his mouth shut. "Mother, how did you do it? How did you manage to cope marrying someone without a choice?"

To his surprise, she didn't yell at him for cheek or scold him for questioning his parent's authority. Instead, she looked at him with something that could only be described as sympathy. "You'll learn to love her, Draco. She's a sweet, attractive girl. Just forget whatever other girl that's on your mind and trust that your father and I know what's best for you. Now come on darling, we really must get going—these shops won't stay open all day."

He was groggy and listless for the rest of the day, much to Narcissa's concern. He barely even reacted to her offer to buy him new sports kit. She could tell that he'd spent a sleepless night and was still preoccupied with something and it didn't take a genius to figure out what that something was. It was evident that he liked that other girl a lot. Although she could still hope that it was just a forgettable summertime fling, Narcissa wasn't an idiot. She knew her son. She knew her son. He'd fallen haard for whoever the girl was and her only hope was that he'd see some sense and start liking Pansy more. In some ways, she did feel sorry for the poor boy. She had been a teenager once, after all. But Pansy was the best option for him and for his own sake, he had to face that fact.

Meanwhile, Draco mostly ignored the world around him as they drifted in and out of shops and missed his mother's concerned glances. She was sure that he hadn't smiled once the whole day. in all aspects but physical, he was a walking raincloud.

But it seemed to him that Hermione didn't have the same problem. He was walking through the aisles of quills in Flourish and Blotts when he caught sight of her familiar bushy hair out of the corner of his eye. Involuntarily, his head shot up.

God, but what he saw somehow managed to weigh his heart down even further. She was laughing and smiling at some distant joke spilling from her twin's lips. How had she gotten over it so quickly? Some insecure part in his mind suggested that maybe he was the butt of the joke. Even though he knew that wasn't true, the thought soured him anyway. He'd managed to reach a stage of wallowing in self-misery that led him to making one of the few truly stupid decisions he'd made in his relatively short life, one of which was getting involved with Hermione in the first place. This particular bad judgement on his behalf was made when he turned away from Hermione's smiling profile. He told himself that they were would both be a lot happier without the other and that his mother was right about his love life. He ignored the hurt inside him and resolved to start focusing his efforts on Pansy.

But Merlin, it was hard. It took all of his self-restraint not to break the very next time he saw her. He caught her eye between the thick tendrils of steam on Platform 9 3/4. It was barely more than a glance but it was enough to throw him into another one of his half-melancholy, half-mad moods, which he unknowingly took out on his friends in a mixture of long, depressing silences and short, snappy outbursts.

"Jesus Christ, Draco," Blaise finally lost it and slammed down his book with unnecessary force, when Draco let out a loud, long-suffering sigh. "What the hell is up with you?"

One had to admire Blaise's patience. Theo had already walked out of the compartment an hour ago, after only 20 minutes of enduring Draco tragically refusing to tell them what was wrong, like the melodramatic little bitch that he was.

"Oh it's nothing," said Draco, dismissing his best friend with a casual wave of his hand and yet another deep sigh.

"Well then stop acting like your grandmother has the flu!"

Draco scowled at him and picked a loose thread on the train seat. Silence resumed. Blaise went back to his book. In fact, Blaise suspected that he knew what was stressing his mate out but wisely kept his mouth shut. It was no use trying to change Draco's mind about something when he was in one of his moods. So long as Draco didn't try anything stupid, Blaise could live with his sulking.

Only a few minutes passed before Draco stood up suddenly and announced that he was going to find Pansy.

"Bro, like hell you are!" Blaise gave him an incredulous look. "The fuck would you want to do that for? Sit your ass down." He'd promised himself to try and keep out of this one as much as possible and let Draco resolve it himself but this was getting out of hand.

Luckily, he was saved from physically wrestling his dumb friend back into his seat and forcing him to confess his undying love for Hermione by her twin walking into the compartment.

"Malfoy."

"Weasley." The two eyed each other warily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Does he know?" Ron jabbed his thumb in the Blaise's direction.

Draco's cold mask was thrown by the bluntness of the question. "I—yes."

"Good. Listen mate, I'm gonna get straight to the point."

"Oh? Do go ahead."

"When are you going to get your head out of your arse and stop ignoring my sister?"

Draco visibly stiffened. His gaze was determinedly fixed on a place above Ron's head. "I don't ignore her." He was fully aware that he sounded like a petulant child but couldn't bring himself to care.

"Bullshit," two sets of voices snapped back at him.

He scowled. "Blaise! You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side, you daft twit! I'm doing you a favour. Now, as Weasley said, get your head out of your arse and go speak to the girl already!"

Draco opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He was fighting a losing battle and didn't he know it. However, just as his resolve was about to crumble, there was a click of a door opening and nobody other than Pansy fucking Parkinson stepped through the door, accompanied but a couple of giggling girls.

"Hi Draco. It's been a while."

Blaise groaned audibly and muttered what sounded like a profanity under his breath.

But Draco managed to force a smile onto his face. "Pansy. Uh, hey... have a seat?"

Ron surveyed the scene with a look of pure disgust and stormed out without another word.

"You know what?" Blaise stood up as well. "I'll leave you guys be. See you at school," with that, he followed Ron out of the compartment. 


	9. CHAPTER 7

It had only been one week of boarding school and Draco already wanted to die. He'd never felt this shit in his life—first of all, there were the lessons. Nothing seemed to go into his thick skull. He was already willing to bet that he was going to fail his N.E.W.Ts—the dreaded Nastily Exhausting Written Tests, a product of the nation's dumbest Minister for Education of all time. His handwriting was shit as it was, never mind trying to write entire essays in a legible script in timed conditions.

And then there was Pansy. Admittedly, he'd felt relieved when she'd come into his train compartment, in a twisted sort of way. Not because she was his _bloody fiancée_ but more because he wanted Blaise and the Weasel to get off his back. He was done with Hermione, or at least that's what he'd been busy telling himself.

Pansy had looked a lot better than when he'd last seen her, over a year ago. She walked with confidence and ease, so unlike the awkward, scowling girl that she'd been before. A year in boarding school and away from her overbearing parents had done her good.

For a brief moment he'd been filled with hope that maybe a life with Pansy wouldn't be too bad. But after a grand total of 10 minutes in her presence he would have happily jumped out of the train window rather than listen to her drone on for another minute. What the hell, he even found himself thinking affectionately of the old Pansy—at least her cynical comments could crack him up.

And every time he had to plaster another fake smile on his face for Pansy's benefit he was reminded of Hermione and how laughter always came effortlessly when she was around. It didn't help that Hermione was always _there_ either: he managed to notice her in every time they were in the same corridor; he would catch himself staring at the curls on the back of her head in class, when Pansy was sitting right next to him; or worst of all, accidentally lock eyes with her from across the common room. He always looked away before he could see her reaction. She was driving him insane. It was infuriating.

Or sometimes, he'd find himself focused on her lips—as always he found himself entranced by the way they moved when she spoke, or the way she bit her plump bottom lip when she was thinking. He was a bit obsessed. She was mesmerising and he hated her for it. Goddamn the way her school skirt hugged her narrow waist and the way her slender neck curved when she was bent over a book.

He knew that he was at an all-time low when he realised that he wanted to be a book when he grew up—anything to have Hermione look at him with interest.

Fuck, he was pathetic. It had barely been two weeks without her.

Draco sighed and rolled over in bed to stare at the one to his right. It was Ron Weasley's. Goddamn the stupid school's decision to put him in a dormitory with none other than Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. Granted, Blaise, Theo and a couple of other boys were there as well, but that did not excuse the fact that Weasley's obnoxious orange posters of his shitty sports team were hurting Draco's eyes. Or the fact that Ron had a photograph of himself and his twin on his bedside table. Hermione looked so happy in that photo, tanned brown and sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Draco sighed melodramatically, refusing to accept that he'd brought his suffering upon himself. He'd been purposely avoiding his ex-girlfriend at all costs.

For a brief moment, his heart leapt when someone entered the dorm—maybe it was Blaise finally coming to check on him? Draco really needed someone to vent his emotions to, pride be damned. He knew that Blaise wouldn't hold back with the "I told you so" but Draco was at a point where he didn't care—Blaise wasn't his best mate for no reason.

But with a sinking heart, he realised that it wasn't Blaise who entered, but Dean Thomas, one of the other boys in the dorm.

 _Of course,_ he thought bitterly. _Even my best mate doesn't care about me._

The truth was, Blaise was just thoroughly sick and tired of Draco's constant moping. He had noticed that Draco had gone up to the dorms and hadn't come down, but suspected that he was probably doing even more moping and waiting for attention. And besides, Pansy was always stuck at Draco's side like a fucking ketchup stain. Blaise despised Pansy and her serious case of verbal diarrhoea. He couldn't be arsed with any of that—instead, he'd resolved to leave Draco be until he saw some sense.

Draco was feeling very abandoned.

"Hey Malfoy,"

"What?" he snapped, annoyed that someone had interrupted his self-pity session.

"Christ," Dean raised his hands in mock-surrender. "I was just gonna say that dinner's in 5 minutes."

"Right. Sorry," mumbled Draco sheepishly. "I'll be there in a sec."

After some dallying in the hope that Blaise or even Theo would come and check if he was alright, Draco dragged himself out of bed feeling more unloved than ever. But if possible, his mood plunged even further when he saw Blaise making casual conversation with Hermione, which sparked irrational jealousy. He had to remind himself that Blaise was about as attracted to women as he was to the table in front of him to stop himself from breaking something. Then he felt even worse for having to think that—Blaise would never go after his girl because he was his best mate, sexuality be damned. Then he remembered that Hermione wasn't even his girl anymore. And that he was supposed to be focusing on the dark-haired nuisance sitting on his left. Fuck Pansy.

"Dracooooo, you're not eating." She waved a spoon of mash in front of his face and attempted to force it down his throat.

Draco slapped her hand away. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat some? For me?" Pansy pouted and tried to shove the potatoes at his face again.

"You know what? I think I'm coming down with something. I'm going to have an early night. Bye Pansy." He stood up forcefully and marched out of the hall as fast as he could. He heard the scrape of a bench and someone following but he ignored it and walked faster. Couldn't Pansy leave him be?

But to his shock, it wasn't Pansy's voice that called after him.

"Hermione?" Draco swivelled around, trying to contain his inexplicable urge to hug her. He'd missed her voice so much. "What are you doing? We can't be seen together, you know that."

"Everyone else is in the dining hall. And besides, we need to talk. About this. You can't avoid it forever."

Draco stopped desperately looking for a place to hide and mirrored her stance instead, defensively crossing his arms over his chest. "About what?"

Fuck, he was stubborn. At times, Hermione thought it was cute but at that particular moment, it was annoying as hell.

"Don't fuck with me Draco, you know what I'm talking about. Look, I've said I'm sorry and I meant it."

He couldn't hold her soft-eyed gaze for more than a second. He dropped his eyes to the floor instead.

"I don't care." He mumbled.

"Draco, I understand that you're mad but can we please be mature about this? We'll be able to work this out much quicker." Her voice took on a pleading tone.

"Who says I want to work anything out? It was a stupid summer fling, can we just forget about it?"

Oh, if only he could believe his own lies. That would be so much easier. But Hermione pierced him with her steady gaze, forcing him to look up at her. "You don't mean that."

"Piss off Weasley. I know what I mean," his voice broke at the end, killing the intended effect. He tried again. "Pansy... she's what's best for me and my family's future... I'm gonna marry her... I'll do it for my parents—" he didn't even notice the tear that escaped his eyes as he rambled on, trying to convince himself more than anything.

Wordlessly, Hermione pulled him into a hug when his tears began to flow freely. Draco had no idea what had come over him; he hadn't cried since he was eight. Emotions were not encouraged in the Malfoy household. He shuddered at what his father would think if he saw his only son in this state. Draco blamed the sobbing mess that he was in on the many recent sleepless nights that he'd had.

"Fuck off! I'm serious Hermione, I don't need your sympathy!" he sobbed into her shoulder, making no move to push her away. She held him tighter but didn't say anything.

"Goddammit, you know we can't be together," Draco gave up all hope of pretence. "I love you. but I'm going to marry Pansy and there's nothing that anyone can do about it."

"You can." she finally spoke. "You can say no."

He'd loved it when she'd last said that, all those nights ago. But he was an idiot for believing it. He pushed himself violently from her, trying and failing to ignore the look of hurt on her face. Why couldn't she understand? "But that's just it, isn't it? You're a fool Weasley. A naïve idiot. I can't just say 'no', if I could I'd have walked out of this shitty engagement ages ago. This isn't a fairy-tale or a game of damsels and knights. You can't save me from this; I can't save me from this."

Hermione tried opening her mouth but with a slightly hysterical laugh, Draco ploughed on. "Do you know how lucky I am that it was my mother who caught me sneaking out and not my dad? Believe me when I say that the punishment would have been a whole lot worse than _boarding school._ I got off lightly as it is."

"Draco—"

"No!" he raged. "I'm a fucking idiot for even speaking to you! For believing for a moment that it could last! And you! Can't you get the fucking message? You're a naïve child and a fool for trying to continue something impossibly stupid!"

Hermione felt the back of her eyelids prick with tears. No. she would not cry in front of him. "Really Malfoy?" she snapped right back, making no attempt to quell a sudden white-hot spark of rage that ran through her. "Well, I'd rather be a fool for hoping than a coward."

He went sheet-white.

"That's right. You're a coward Malfoy. Now grow some balls and get your own damn self out of this situation. I'm tired of helping. I'm sure you could do it if you stopped wallowing in your own self-pity!"

"You don't understand!" he practically screamed, lurching towards her like a crazy person. She stumbled backwards. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought that he was actually going to hit her but he restrained himself at the last second and went for the wall next to her head instead. He ignored the sharp pain and the sticky trail of red that pulsed from his knuckles. He stood there for a moment, still towering over her shocked form, and let the sobs wrack through his body. They were ugly, heaving tears that Hermione couldn't stand. He looked so vulnerable.

When she finally reached out to touch his cheek in silent apology, he turned and fled, leaving her with his tears on her fingers and too stunned to react.

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night.


	10. CHAPTER 8

Ron scowled at the chess board, deep in thought. He couldn't concentrate on the game—for the first time he wasn't certain he was going to win. And it was against Blaise Zabini of all people. He'd found that despite being friends with the blonde prick for some unfathomable reason, Blaise was a decent guy. And seeing as Harry was spending less and less time with him and Malfoy was spending more time with the Parkinson cow, they'd both found themselves without their respective best friends and were hanging out a lot.

"Checkmate," Ron's face lit up. He moved a bishop.

"What??" Blaise was flabbergasted. Weasley had no right to be so bloody good at chess—he acted like an idiot half the time and Blaise was just getting used to the fact that the youngest Weasley boy was less than stupid. "No, you can't do that."

"I can and I just did. What are you gonna do about it?" asked Ron, sitting back triumphantly.

"You soulless bastard. It's because of your ginger hair."

"What's his ginger hair done now?" Harry came down the dormitory stairs looking suspiciously ruffled. Ron narrowed his eyes.

"Harry mate, where have you been?"

"Uhhh... studying..."

"Stop lying Potter," chuckled Blaise. "You have the make-out vibe."

"The what now?" scowled Harry, looking slightly self-conscious.

"The make out vibe. You know, the tousled hair, blush, clothes on wonky."

"Knew it!" Ron slammed his fist down so hard that some chess pieces fell off the board. "Who's your secret girlfriend? We know you've got one, Hermione noticed in the first week."

Harry blushed red. "I'm not telling you."

"Suit yourself, Harry. Besides, it's not just you who won't tell me anything. Ginny's got a secret boyfriend as well," muttered Ron darkly, glaring at the stairwell where Ginny had just emerged. "She's not telling me who it is. Bet it's some slimy fucking git."

Harry went impossibly redder. "Maybe she's not telling you because she knows you'll call him a slimy git."

"C'mon, I have a right to be defensive. He's dating my sister, for Merlin's sake!"

"Still can't be worse than Malfoy," Harry folded his arms. "Your twin literally got her heart broken by that poncy git, why do you care about Ginny's boyfriend for fucks sake?"

"Hey," interjected Blaise. "Draco's not that bad once you get to know him—"

"I bet it's Dean," scowled Ron, looking at the stairs. Dean was coming down. "Git."

"You've never had a problem with Dean before," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, that's before he started shagging my sister!"

Blaise choked on air. "Fucking hell mate, way to jump to conclusions."

"It makes sense. They're both on the fencing team."

"So's Harry. So are you," Blaise pointed out, noticing that Harry was looking distinctly uncomfortable. A sneaking suspicion dawned on him but he didn't dare voice it.

"Okay, fine. So say it isn't Dean. Who the hell is it then? It better not be anyone I know, shagging your mate's sister is bang out of order. Well against the bro code," he scowled again and sat back, his mood ruined.

"Right... well I'll be going then. I gotta head to the library..." Harry stood up and left.

Ron scowled at him too.

Blaise gulped. "Bloody hell mate, don't you think you're overreacting a bit? Your sisters got a right to date whoever she wants, you know."

"Merlin, I know, but it's hard innit? He could be a perv for all I know. Besides, I don't see the need to keep it secret, her and Harry both. Thought I was close enough to know. Like bloody hell, even Hermione told us she was dating Malfoy of all people."

Again, Blaise was hit by a thought. He felt like he knew exactly who both Ginny and Harry were dating but didn't dare tell Ron for fear of pissing him off further. They sat in silence for a minute more, Blaise carefully surveying Ron's scowling face. It was raining outside, the early October rain splattering against the windows like it was trying to force its way into the building. There was already a bucket in the corner of the common room, underneath a dripping damp patch on the ceiling.

"Blaise,"

"Hm?" Blaise quickly stopped staring at Ron's freckles.

"Hermione and Malfoy, right. I'm not completely fucking blind. I know your prick of a friend doesn't like Pansy."

"Yeah," snorted Blaise. "Course not. Just like you don't like Lavender—duck you idiot, she's coming into the common room."

With a chuckle, Blaise shoved Ron's ginger head down. A look of alarm crossed his features and he collapsed off his chair to cower behind the floral patterns. He even put a pillow over his head as he peered around the arm of the chair. Blaise did his best to look innocent as Lavender surveyed the common room, evidently looking for her boyfriend.

"Is she gone yet?"

"No, shut up."

They waited in silence. Blaise watched her frown, survey the room one last time and adjust her beaded necklace before storming out again. He felt sorry for her.

"You can get up now, you prick. Why don't you just break up with her?" Blaise chucked a chess piece at Ron's head.

"Ouch, mate. I know I need to break up with her but she's fucking scary, you know? She'll throw a massive tantrum. Hopefully she gets bored or gets the hint I'm not interested and she'll break up with me first and spare me the fucking drama."

"You coward. Why did you guys even start going out in the first place?"

"I dunno, she asked me out for whatever reason and she's not bad looking. I don't even know when we became official, it wasn't intentional. We went on one fucking date and boom—she's decided she's my bloody girlfriend. Bloody hell, I don't understand women," he groaned.

"S'why you should date men instead," said Blaise, offhandedly. "Much easier."

Ron snorted. "Shut it Blaise, you know I don't swing that way."

"Shame," smirked Blaise. "There's no good looking gay guys out the closet in this school."

Ron posed ridiculously. "Hot damn, I know. But you can't get them all with your pretty face, sorry Blaise."

Blaise burst into laughter, which set Ron off as well until he spotted Hermione rushing out of the dorms looking stressed as usual. She was nothing like his strong, determined twin that Ron used to know. His face fell.

"Mione, where are you off too?"

"Library," she said distractedly. "I need to research something..."

Just like that, she was gone again. Ron sighed heavily. "She's been like this for ages, and it's your stupid friend's fault."

Blaise picked at a piece of thread on the side of his armchair. "If it makes you feel any better, Draco's not been too happy either. Arranged marriages in old families are tricky things, you gotta cut him some slack."

"If only they hadn't met," said Ron, moodily. "It would be so much easier."

There was another pause as Ron glared at the rain splattering on the windows. "You know, she was reading some massive book about the legalities of arranged marriages. She hasn't been sleeping. I tried telling her that she should give up—why the hell is she putting more effort into getting him out of this marriage than he is?"

"He's scared," admitted Blaise. "This kids been my best friend since primary school and he lives in fear of letting his parents down. I'm pretty sure seeing Hermione was the first rebellious thing he's ever done."

"What, so you're suggesting that he used her as a way to rebel against his dumb parents?"

"No, I'm suggesting that he loves her enough to break the rules for once. For you Weasleys, the rule breaking comes naturally. And he loves her enough to try and ignore her because he's got it into his head that it's the better option for whatever reason."

"What a fucking idiot."

"And don't I know it. Hey, Ron—" Blaise was struck with an idea. He'd been thinking about it for ages now but if he could recruit Ron, it would be a lot easier. "If they still like each other..."

"Mate, are you really suggesting that we try set them up?" said Ron, incredulously. Initially, he'd been happy when Malfoy and Hermione broke up but as September came to a close and Hermione resolutely refused to give up on the prick, Ron found himself wishing they were still together.

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting."

"Fucking hell, I'm in."

It started small. Blaise left a newspaper article about people's success stories getting out of arranged marriages in a very obvious place in their dorm, Ron helped Hermione talk through her ideas. They made a point to drag their respective friends to lunch together so they were forced to sit at the same table and it escalated to inviting them to places and bailing last-minute. But nothing seemed to be working. They knew it wasn't exactly subtle but after a few tense words, Draco would resolutely refuse to hold a conversation with Hermione.

It got to the point where it escalated to Blaise bribing Professor Flitwick to redo the seating chart and put Hermione and Draco together. It didn't work, but it was worth a try. Blaise even shoved Draco down a flight of stairs to see if Hermione would catch him—she did but after a mumbled thanks, he jumped up and hurried away and yelled at Blaise for 2 hours afterwards.

Nothing seemed to be working. Draco still had his head up his arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread this and Ron's so aggressively british it hurts


	11. CHAPTER 9

"We need a new tactic," scowled Ron, glaring at the two of them from inside the broom closet. They'd just tried getting them to meet for what seemed like 30th time. "The Malfoy boy is a right prick."

Blaise tried to ignore how close Ron was—the broom closet wasn't very big. He could count every freckle on Ron's nose.

"Bitch, don't you think I know that? Get out of here you fat lump. We're gonna be late to chemistry," he shoved Ron out of the cupboard, trying not to show how flustered he was.

"Ah. Weasley. Zabini," drawled their chemistry teacher, Professor Snape. "How considerate of you to show up at this fine hour. If you'd bothered grace us with your presence 5 minutes ago, you'd know that I've elected to change the seating plan so you are less... distracted," his lip curled into his characteristic sneer. "Next to Nott. The both of you. Now."

Sheepishly, Blaise and Ron took their places next to Theo, under Snape's withering glare.

"Prick," muttered Blaise under his breath. "Distractions my arse. Snape used to be Draco's nanny... I bet Mrs Malfoy set him up to this."

All three of them glared in Draco's direction. He looked bored as he lounged next to Pansy and kept casting subtle glances in Hermione's direction. It was so obvious it was pathetic. He flushed pale pink when he noticed the three of them glaring at him, knowing he'd been caught. Draco flipped them the bird and turned back to the front, where Snape was droning about atoms or something.

"What a fucking twat," scowled Ron, bunching up a sheet of paper into a ball and flicking it at him.

"Oi, that's my cousin you're talking about Weasley," snapped Theo.

"SILENCE!" Snape thundered. All three of them waited until he turned back to the board to keep talking.

"Shut your trap Nott, it's my sister he's ogling."

"Guys," Blaise, who was sitting in the middle (the poor bloke) put his head in his hands. "Can we stop the animosity? Please?"

"Blaise, this fucker is the reason I'm stuck in a boarding school anyway. He started a fight!"

"Potter insulted me, what were you expecting?" Theo hissed back.

"Dumb move anyway, didn't Mione get you in hospital? Didn't you have to fix your nose?" smirked Ron, leaning back on his chair smugly but ruining the effect when he nearly fell off.

"Weasley... again. Detention," scowled Snape, sweeping past. "Didn't you hear my instructions? Get the magnesium powder."

Blaise sighed heavily. The idiots on either side of him were going to be the death of him. After Theo worked out his cousin was in love with a Weasley and after sharing a dorm with her twin for over a month, one would have thought that the feud between the two families would have died down somewhat. Apparently not.

"Shut it Weasley, I got you good in the face. Rematch with swords and you're dead," sniped Nott.

"Both of you, shut the fuck up! The experiment's not going to complete itself," Blaise slapped Ron to stop him from retorting.

"Nott... Zabini... I see you haven't started. Detention."

"Fucksake, look what you've done," whined Blaise while Ron sniggered. At least they'd stopped arguing.

"Urgh, look at her," scowled Theo again, gesturing to Pansy, who'd looped her arm around Draco's waist. "Groping my cousin like that."

"Fucking cow," agreed Ron. Blaise's mouth dropped open on shock. It was the first time he'd ever seen them agree about something.

"She used to be kind of nice before, what the hell happened?" Theo complained, not paying attention as he poured entirely too much magnesium powder on their set of scales. "Well not nice, but at least she had a personality. You know, she always played the dragon when we played castles and knights."

"Ewwwww, you used to hang out with Parkinson?"

"When we were like eight, yeah."

"Guys, for real, shut up before Snape catches us talking again."

"C'mon Blaise, we've already got detention. What's he gonna do?"

"Give you detention on a Saturday. Shut up and measure the right amount of magnesium for fucks sake, that's way too much."

"Yo, Weasley," Nott's eyes lit up. "You think we can get your sister and my cousin in detention together?" Although he clearly disliked Hermione because of her last name, Nott's hatred for Pansy seemed to overcome that.

"Fuck, mate, stellar idea. Blaise, what do you think?"

"How, pray tell fuck, are you gonna do that?" Blaise folded his arms and pressed his lips into a thin line. He felt like the only one with common sense here.

"Okay, if Nott starts a fight with Hermione, I'll start a fight with Malfoy. Then we bail on the detention Snape gives us and it's just them."

They fist bumped. Blaise put his head into his hands, completely done with the both of them. He never should have introduced them. "You're gonna get a motherfucker of a detention if you bail on Snape."

"Fucking worth it. Wait here," Ron strolled to the front in the pretence of getting another test tube and very obviously crashed into Malfoy.

One broken test tube and some select curse words later, Malfoy was happily in detention and Ron had 4 hours of scrubbing used equipment on a Saturday. And after a casual diss about Weasleys, SPUD and a cheeky elbow to the rib, Hermione was secured in the same detention.

Hermione spotted Theo, Ron and Blaise high-fiving and seethed under her breath. She hadn't even done anything, it was just Snape's prejudice that had her in this stupid detention. She wasn't stupid, she knew full well that the three of them had planned it and felt like slapping them. Sure, she had to grudgingly admit that Ron's willingness to spend his weekend cleaning chemistry equipment in an attempt to help her was sweet but it wasn't going to work. Draco had made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to talk to her.

And she also wasn't blind to their other ridiculous attempts of setting them up. She knew it had gotten bad when Draco's Weasley-hating cousin got involved. God damn Theo. She contemplated breaking his nose again—she had detention already, she didn't see why not. Then she realised that she'd get expelled. But if she was expelled, she wouldn't have to look at Draco's insufferable face... it honestly would be easier if he ignored her but then again, she wasn't blind. She caught his pale grey eyes staring at her at least three times a lesson.

Like now, for example. She met his eye, trying not to remember the way he'd shouted at her and the way she'd called him a coward. She wanted to apologise but then again, he needed the wakeup call. This wasn't about her anymore. She didn't care who he was with but she was still determined to help him out of a forced marriage. Because that's what it was at this point. It wasn't arranged anymore if he was forced... she'd been reading into the technicalities of the law, desperately trying to find a way out of it. And unfortunately, it looked like even though he didn't want to marry that stupid cow, he was still willing to do it. Which was legal. Unfortunately. It was up to him to sort himself out. All she could do was support him and he wasn't even letting her do that.

Meanwhile, while she mused, Draco couldn't help himself from constantly glancing her way. He knew he was blushing. Weasley's acting was piss-poor and quite frankly, so was his stupid cousin's: he knew full well the two of them were working together to try and set him up with Hermione again. And Blaise was definitely in on it too—two of his closest friends and his arch nemesis. Fuck sake. Traitors, the lot of them.

Draco half-heartedly measured out some hydrochloric acid, trying to ignore Pansy, who was cooing about how good he was at chemistry. He didn't know what she was on about, all he'd done was measure the acid without spilling it everywhere. Honestly, Hermione was so much better than him—he always knew she was bloody intelligent from the way she spoke but now her grades were speaking for themselves. Dimly, he registered some guilt at his own grades—his parents weren't impressed but he couldn't help it. It was hard. He was too stressed.

"Can you shut up, Pansy? I'm trying to work," he snapped at her, ignoring the affronted look he received for it.

As expected, Blaise, Ron and Theo bailed on the detention, instead opting to make faces at them through the window behind Snape's back. Hermione looked nervous and kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she washed beakers.

Draco flushed red at the attention. He was pathetic. But he couldn't stop himself glancing back. She was beautiful and it was driving him insane—she even looked good elbow-deep in funny-coloured soapy water. Draco cursed his stupid brain and tried to picture Pansy instead even though the idea of kissing her made him grimace.

To his surprise, Hermione was still being nice to him. He remembered his outburst all those weeks ago and cringed in shame, like he did every time he thought of it. He'd lost control completely and it wasn't fair on her. He should have cut her off completely but he'd ended up crying and shouting at her instead, and she'd called him a coward—and she was right. Draco was fucking scared of his own parents.

"Here, if you wash off the thermometers, I'll clean the pipettes and we'll be done," she smiled at him, jerking him out of his thoughts. He paused, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

"Uhhhh... yeah. Sure," said Draco through his teeth, forcing a smile. He wondered who the hell decided forcing them into detention together was a good idea. What did Blaise, Theo and Weasley think they'd do? Kiss and make up? Draco wished. 


	12. CHAPTER 10

"I'm not thick," Hermione reminded her idiot of a twin for the 100th time. "I'm not blind either. I can see you and Blaise trying to set us up and it's not going to work. Believe me, I want it to work. I want to help him. There's a reason why I keep 'falling for' your stupid plans."

"C'mon, they're brilliant plans," complained Ron. "Only Malfoy's a git. They totally worked if he was a normal bloke and not a stuck up prick."

"He's not a stuck up prick—" Hermione began hotly but Ron cut her off.

"Yeah, yeah. You seen Blaise or Theo anywhere?" he said dismissively. It hurt her. She knew he didn't mean it but he'd been sort of distant recently—it was party her fault, she supposed. She was always preoccupied recently, what with thoughts about her stupid ex-boyfriend and the amount of classes she'd signed up for.

But she couldn't help feeling slightly abandoned. For most of her life, it was her, Ron and Harry, inseparable. Now Harry was never around these days, spending time with 'other friends'. Strangely enough, her younger sister was never around when Harry was gone either. Hermione suspected she knew exactly who each of their secret partners were but when she'd confronted them about it, they'd both vehemently denied it.

And Ron... Ron had other friends now too. She knew they'd be happy to include her but she just couldn't find the effort anymore. Ron was perfectly happy pissing about and doing 'bro' things with Theo and Blaise and maybe she wasn't being fair, but she felt a little ignored. And as of yet, she couldn't really relate to any of the girls in her dorm. She was the only new one, the others had been going to Hogwarts for years now. And it didn't help they were all friends with Pansy fucking Parkinson.

"Hey!" they were joined by Ron's two friends. Hermione forced a smile. Blaise was a little too perceptive for her liking.

"Right, so Draco's still in his dorm moping..." began Blaise but was cut off by Harry joining their little circle. He gave a curt nod towards them and Hermione could have cut the tension between them. He wasn't as forgiving as Ron towards them—but then again, he didn't spend much time with them. Hermione knew that Harry hated Theodore Nott with a passion and hadn't gotten over the one time they'd insulted each other's mums.

"C'mon mate, let's get dinner," said Blaise loudly, pulling Theo away. He could definitely sense the tension and didn't want a fight to break out.

But their little trio still felt constrained. Harry and Ron hadn't spoken in a while. Hermione prayed that Ron wouldn't bring anything up—Harry had what Blaise called the 'make-out-look'. He'd definitely been busy.

"Harry. Nice of you to join us," said Ron. "Give our love to your girlfriend, looks like she's taking great care of you. I'm grateful even if you won't tell us who it is."

"Shut up, Ron."

"Is it a guy? Because we're definitely not gonna judge, mate."

"No, course not. Definitely a girl."

"Hm," said Ron, his eye on something behind Harry. He turned around.

Hermione's heart leapt to her mouth. The situation was not good. Ginny was standing a few feet away, talking to her friends, with a blooming purple hickey poking out from the top of her collar.

"Ginny, come here a minute," called Ron, lightly. She turned around, adjusting her collar as she did.

"What do you want, Ronald? I'm hungry make it quick."

Harry looked decidedly shifty and made a move to leave but Ron grabbed his arm. "Oh no, stay here Harry. You never speak to me anymore and I think we need to do some catching up."

Gods, Hermione was uncomfortable. This was not going to end well at all.

"Ginny, what's that on your neck?" asked Ron, glaring at her dangerously.

She glowered straight back. "As if that's any of your business, Ronald."

"Of course it's my business, what if he's a prick? Chances are I won't have a problem. But the fact you're hiding it makes it pretty damn suspicious. I don't see why you have to run behind my back," he added, with a pointed glance at Harry.

She snorted. "Maybe because you keep acting like that. Besides, I don't see how it can get any worse than _Malfoy_ ," she snapped, looking at Hermione. "And you didn't have a problem with that."

"What?" suddenly, Hermione was livid as well. "You told her? After I specifically asked you not to tell anyone?" she glared at Harry and Ron, knowing it was one of them.

Ron pointed at Harry, looking fuming. "You fucking lying prick. You spilled your best friend's secret?"

"Calm down, it's just Ginny," Harry held up his hands.

"What do you mean, just Ginny?" raged Ron. Half the common room, including Theo and Blaise, were staring at them now. "I know you've been—you two have been..."

"Been doing what now?" screeched Ginny. "Maybe this is the reason we didn't tell you! Because you're acting like a prick!"

"And you've been lying to my face for months! Sneaking around with my best friend like I wouldn't notice!"

"You know what? Fuck you Ronald. You selfish, nosy brat!" with that, Ginny stormed off towards the dorms. Harry made to follow her but Ron pulled him back.

"Oh no you fucking don't. You! I thought you were supposed to be my best mate! But you've been shagging my sister behind my back and lying to my face about it! I'm not thick, I gave you so many opportunities to come clean and you fucking carried on!"

"No, you shut the fuck up Ron! If you were my friend you'd support it! We're happy and you're making a fucking massive deal about it! It's none of your business!"

"I'll damn well think it's my business if some rando's been leaving marks all over my little sister, and my fucking best friend at that! Fucking snake."

They both looked ready to throw hands and the whole bloody common room was gathered around, anticipating a fight. As mad as Hermione was for Harry not keeping her secret, she didn't really want them to start fighting. She grabbed Ron's tense forearm, shot Harry a poisonous glare and dragged Ron away towards the dining hall.

This was a bloody mess. 


	13. CHAPTER 11

"Wait, what happened?" gasped Draco.

Blaise sniggered and skimmed another stone across the lake. "Man, you missed it. Spectacle of the century."

"Spill the tea, you prick. How scandalous was it?"

"Scandalous enough for people to be talking about it for months. Shit's _juicy._ Lord Harry Potter has been secretly dating Ron's little sister for months, behind his back."

"Merlin. And I thought dating Hermione was scandalous... that's straight up a violation of the bro code. Okay, maybe not the dating business but the fact they hid it for so long," Draco shook his head in bewilderment. "Still, Weasley's definitely overreacting, at least it's not his ex or something."

"Nah, Potter also told his girl about you and Hermione's relationship. Bang out of order. Also mate, dating someone's sister secretly is definitely weirder than dating someone's ex."

"I don't think so. I'd be pretty weirded out if you started dating Hermione, and fucking pissed off as well."

"Yeah, well you'd better get a move on and actually talk to the girl before I kiss her in front of you."

"You're gay, Blaise. Besides, if you did I'd fucking kill you and you know that."

"Yeah, well at the rate you're going someone else is going to take her, she's plenty smart and good-looking. I heard McLaggen has a thing for her, and he's fucking fit. I'd tap that."

Draco's blood boiled but he playfully shoved Blaise away. He knew he shouldn't be jealous that someone else was interested in Hermione—he wanted her to move on. Right? He was confused and regretted everything.

"Shut up Blaise. Go and shag him then, if he's so fit."

"Mate, he's got a 6 pack of the gods and that jawline could cut me and I'd thank him for it. Shame he's straight, and a twat. And definitely into Hermione," Blaise stared at him challengingly.

Draco knew he was trying to get a reaction out of him, and goddamn Blaise but it was working. He wanted nothing better than to walk up to McLaggen's smug face and slap the bastard. But he wasn't going to give Blaise the satisfaction of knowing that.

He skimmed another stone and watched it bounce across the water in the fading afternoon light. It would be time for dinner soon.

"C'mon, Draco," said Blaise, in a softer voice. "She just wants to be friends. She doesn't even want to pursue the old romance you guys had, if it makes you feel bad for 'cheating' on Pansy, the fucking bitch. She just wants to be there and help you through this shit. She notices, man. She can see your grades slipping. She can see you're bloody miserable."

"You wouldn't understand. It hurts loving someone I can't have."

"So you've admitted you still love her."

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" he said in despair. "I never stopped and you know that. I've never felt that kind of connection before, not even close. And those months I spent with her were the best months of my life, and the ones without were the worst."

"Yes you melodramatic little bitch, and she loves you back," Blaise soothed. "Are you really going to let a connection that beautiful slip away because your parents want you to marry a senator's daughter for influence? You'll be miserable for the rest of your life."

"I can't."

"Yes you damn well can. You can say no. Take charge of your own life, idiot, you're nearly a grown-ass adult. I'm sure she's said the exact same things to you hundreds of times, now fucking listen to the advice your friends are giving to you," said Blaise, exasperated. "I left that book about marriage and the law on your bed for a reason. Hermione found it. They can't force you to marry, that's illegal. If you resist then they can't do shit."

"Blaise—"

"Live a little, man. Once you finish school get the fuck out. Find a job. You don't have to be dependent on your parents."

"It's not that easy," whined Draco, slumping back in defeat. "I love my parents Blaise, they genuinely think they're doing what's best for me. And I know I should marry Pansy but I just—I love Hermione too much. You don't understand how much it hurts."

Blaise could sense that his friend was done with this conversation and decided to lighten it up a bit. "Okay, so maybe I don't understand. But I can come close to the feeling."

"What do you mean?" Draco sat up, suddenly invested again. "Blaise, for fuck's sake, don't tell me you've fallen for a straight guy again."

It was Blaise's turn to groan melodramatically. "You betcha."

"Blaise! You dumbass!"

He glared at Draco. "I can't help it any more than you can't help being hopelessly in love with a Weasley."

"Who? Wait, let me guess. It's not... wait no, it can't be..."

Blaise could almost see the cogs working in his best friend's brain and when he watched his face drop incredulously, he knew he'd guessed it. He put his face in his hands.

"Not..." Draco jumped up, pointing at him accusingly. "Ronald Weasley!"

"Shut the fuck _up,_ Malfoy you little piece of shit!" Blaise wrestled him back down.

"Why?" wailed Draco. "Why, why, why? I thought you were joking when you said gingers were hot. _Ron Weasley_ of all people?"

"Shut up, bitch. Like you can talk. You're hopelessly in love with his twin."

"And you're sure he's straight?"

"Straightest fucker I've ever had the misfortune to look at. He wouldn't hide it if he was gay and you should hear the way he talks about girls."

"Aw man, so we're both pathetic then," giggled Draco, lying down on the pier and feeling a sudden rush of fondness for his best friend. They were both ridiculous. "Fuck the Weasleys. Wanna run away and become hermits together?"

"Man, if we're gonna run away you might as well take Hermione with you, doubt she'd say no."

"Fair point. Thanks Blaise, by the way."

"No problem—wait for what?"

"Think you might have just convinced me to get my head out of my arse and talk to her."

"Really?" Blaise stared at him in shock. "You're joking."

"Believe me," hummed Draco, cheerfully. "I wish I was. Do me one more favour and don't let me chicken out of this decision later."

***

"I'm not going."

"Like hell you're not," Blaise scowled and blocked the entrance to their dorm. "You specifically told me not to let you chicken out."

"That was a dumb decision. You confused me with your manipulative stories about your failed love life. Let me in."

"Fuck no."

"Blaise... if you ever were a friend—"

"If I ever was a friend, I'd drag you out there myself. You told her you wanted to talk, you can't pussy out now."

"It's a terrible idea! What if someone sees us? Imagine the scandal!"

"Bitch, pretend you're doing homework together it's not that hard to believe. Theo hangs out with Ron all the fucking time and nobody cares. Now talk to her you bleeding idiot and I promise you'll feel better afterwards. Now go, for fucks sake."

Draco scowled at Blaise one last time before steeling his resolve. Merlin, he was actually going to do it. He was going to speak to Hermione, the girl who he couldn't be with but still made butterflies erupt in his chest. Who he'd shouted at last time they'd spoken even though she was trying to be nice.

He walked into the empty classroom feeling extremely self-conscious. Hermione was facing him, arms folded and her red-lipped mouth pressed into the thin line she made whenever she was restraining from lecturing him. He felt a sudden rush of affection. She was fucking strong and she was here to help him—if anyone could find a solution or give him courage, it was her. He was doing this for her.

"Hi," he said awkwardly.

"Draco."

Oh boy, she was mad at him. And he fucking deserved it. "Listen, I'm sorry—"

"Save it, ferret," she snapped, but softened and stepped forwards and give him a hug. He froze in surprise but eventually relaxed into her touch. "I missed you, Draco."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was stupid for almost losing a friend. I missed you too."

And just like that, all of their initial awkwardness was gone. It was as if they'd never argued.

He watched her hands fly around her face as she explained everything she'd read about marriage and tradition and legalities and in the worst case scenario, laws on disowning children. He was so touched that she'd gone through all this effort for him and suddenly, as she gave him that confident, assured smile, he knew that he could do it. He could disobey his parents.

It was that stupid expression he couldn't resist. The one with jaw set, eyes sparkling and mouth held high—somehow, he fell deeper in love with her and somehow, that didn't make him feel guilty. She believed in him and they'd get away from his stupid arranged marriage together.

She was the knight to his princess, the Romeo to his Juliet. And looking at her, he could suddenly allow himself to imagine a future without his overbearing parents' wishes. 


	14. CHAPTER 12

The bell rang, making Hermione jump. She was daydreaming again. At least she was happier than she'd been in ages, partly because she was talking to Draco again. She knew it was pathetic but it hurt her to see him moping around and brooding about Pansy all the fucking time. Hermione had strong morals and the idea of being forced to marry someone shook her to the core.

"C'mon Mione, get your stuff," Ron was hopping around impatiently, books already packed. "It's lunch and I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Hermione threw her books into her bag and swung it over her shoulder, hurrying to follow her twin out of class. As usual, the hallways were cramped with the wave of students rushing for the hall. "Ronald! Wait up!"

"Hurry up woman," he yelled over his shoulder, ignoring the 1st years he was trampling. Sure, it was normally packed but was it always that crowded? Maybe something was blocking the corridors. It was nearly Halloween and decorations were beginning to go up, so maybe it was that.

"Ronald! Stop hitting children!"

"Tell them to stop getting in my way—oh shit. This doesn't look good," Ron, the lanky bastard, could see over the crowd and he grabbed Hermione's hand, dragging her to the front of the corridor-blockage. Turns out it wasn't the decorations causing traffic.

Harry Potter was standing in the middle of the corridor looking furious, facing an equally furious Theodore Nott. Most of the crowd were standing back, waiting for something to happen. Blaise had a placating hand on Theo's arm and Draco was watching warily.

"—didn't do anything, Potter! Maybe if you'd watched where you were going, instead of running into me, you wouldn't have thought I hit you!"

"Harry mate," Ron muscled his way through the crowd. "Just leave it. It's not worth it, let's get some lunch."

Hermione was surprised—she didn't think Ron and Harry were on speaking terms. If she was being honest, she hadn't quite forgiven Harry either, for telling Ginny about Draco. Not that she really minded Ginny knowing but the breach of trust hurt. Though to be fair, she did think Ron was majorly overreacting about the whole Ginny and Harry thing. Hermione thought they made a great couple and knew Harry would treat her sister right.

But apparently, Harry was still understandably salty about Ron's outburst. Neither of them had apologised about it and what with him being a Lord, he was talked about even more now. The school was divided into Harry's side and Ron's side of the argument and people kept talking about their personal business, much to Harry's displeasure.

"Ron. No, I'm fine. I think I'll handle this one." Harry shrugged Ron away, and glared at Theo. "You don't need to stand up for a _Malfoy."_

"Harry," said Hermione warningly. She could tell he was mad. All the pressure of being in the spotlight all the time was making him angry—he was definitely about to do something stupid.

"C'mon Nott, why did you push me? Too pussy to fight me again, after you ended up in hospital with a broken nose?" he taunted.

To Hermione's relief, Nott didn't seem to want to escalate it further. He folded his arms and glared. "That was Hermione Weasley, not you, Potter. Besides, from what I remember I kneed you in the balls first. Now fuck off, I want to eat lunch."

Theo moved to brush past but Harry reached out to try trip him up. With a scowl, Blaise shoved Harry away. "How old are you, three?"

"Aw, look at you Nott, needing your boyfriend to fight your battles. Just like your loser of a dad really, maybe that's why your Malfoy mum left you—"

Theo swung a punch. In seconds, they were brawling again.

"Oh for crying out loud! Theo didn't even start it this time!" complained Hermione, resigning herself to the fact she was gonna have to dive in and sort it out.

She seized Harry's flailing arm and Ron grabbed the other, while Draco and Blaise struggled to hold a seething Theo back.

"Potter. Mr and Miss Weasley. Nott. Malfoy. Zabini. Fighting in the corridors, are we?" scowled Snape, billowing into the scene with his ridiculous bat-robes. "Detention. All of you. My office after school."

Harry scowled but finally stopped trying to struggle out of Ron and Hermione's grip. "Prick. Nott deserved it, the stupid Malfoy."

"Actually," said Ron, rubbing his temple. "Harry mate, I'm pretty sure you started that one."

"He deserved it! The prick pushed me!"

"Mate, you cussed out his mum for no reason. That's bang out of order."

"Fucksake. Not you too. Fucking fraternising with Malfoys." Harry pulled away from them and stormed off. Ron looked slightly guilty—Harry was supposed to be his best friend, despite the disagreement they'd had recently. But his face hardened.

"Fucking Harry, the moody bitch. What happened to our friend, Hermione? He's turned into a right bastard."

For once, Hermione didn't know. It wasn't like Harry to act like that. Privately, she suspected that it was a combination of being pissed off at his best friend and harassed by half the student body on a regular.

She sighed as she flopped down next to Ron in the lunch hall. There was one good thing about Hogwarts, she supposed: the bitter Weasley/Malfoy family divide was getting weaker by the day, at least by the younger generation. Now that she thought about it, there wasn't really much of a reason for them to argue in the first place apart from their stupid traditions. Yes, their houses were on opposite sides during the civil war almost two decades ago but surely they'd moved on? 

She supposed not. The Malfoys did unspeakable things. They supported the Dark Lord, and were on the same side that killed Harry's parents. But Draco wasn't like that and it wasn't fair that they couldn't be together because of it. She scowled and glared at the back of his blonde head, where he was sitting across the hall with Pansy fucking Parkinson. At least they were talking again so she could try and help him.

And honestly, she was optimistic about the family divide weakening even more. Next to her, Ron was animatedly joking around with Theodore Nott, who until recently was a Malfoy poster boy—fiercely loyal to his family. But now it seemed he'd relaxed a bit out of his family's poisonous ideas and was actually enjoying talking to a Weasley.

"Yeah," said Ron, waving his spoon around and nearly hitting Hermione with mashed potatoes. "I don't know what's gotten into Harry. Don't know what he was playing at, starting that."

Nott looked pleasantly surprised that Ron had chosen to side with him, rather than his best friend. He looked impressed that Ron was actually using common sense over blind family loyalty and said as much.

"Yeah," Ron scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit pink around the ears. "I dunno. I've kind of got to use my own brain. He'll come around eventually. You're not bad you know, for a Malfoy."

"Not bad yourself."

They didn't notice when Hermione left them to their awkward bonding and bro stuff and went to the library. The library was her favourite place in the castle. When she was younger, Percy, her 3rd oldest brother, used to take her to the big one in the metropolis before he'd started working for the ministry. That one was gorgeous but the Hogwarts one wasn't half bad either.

It was located on the top floor with wide, south-facing windows that when the light was right, perfectly illuminated the rows of tall, dusty bookshelves stacked with thousands of volumes. The shelves were made of sturdy dark wood which sagged comfortably against the weight of books. It was old. There was always dust in the air, which glittered gold in the sunlight but made Hermione sneeze.

She dumped her stuff on a table at the back, not noticing the blonde head that had followed her there. She started looking for a book about arithmancy—yes, she could start her homework and if she had time, research the rights of servants. With a sigh, she looked around for a ladder—the book she wanted was just out of reach. There wasn't one near. She huffed in frustration and stood on her tiptoes, straining to grab it. The tips of her fingers barely skimmed the spine.

"Need a hand, beaver?" A slim, pale hand easily pulled the book she needed off the shelf.

Hermione shrieked in surprise but with a chuckle, the other hand reached down and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"You prick! Draco!" But she couldn't stay pretend-mad at him when he had that insufferable smirk on, the one that he used whenever he was pissing her off on purpose. Grudgingly, she felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile.

They both peered around the shelves cautiously to make sure Madam Pince, the horror of a librarian, hadn't heard Hermione's screech.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is it a crime to see my friend?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

"If your father hears about this—"

"It's fine, Hermione. Everyone's at lunch. Besides, Theo talks to Ron all the time so..."

"If you insist. Besides, nobody cares about Nott anyway, he's not supposed to be engaged."

He pouted. "Come on, I thought we weren't supposed to care. What's a bit of rebellion?"

Hermione stared at him open-mouthed and he laughed at her expression. "Who are you and what did you do with Draco? You don't care?"

"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "I've done a lot of thinking and a lot of talking, to Blaise mostly. I'm done with my parents, honestly."

"Damn, don't most teenagers go through their rebellious phase younger?" she teased.

"I'm just slow I guess," he grinned. "Also, Blaise pointed out that I was bloody miserable half the time and decided fuck my parents, it's not worth it," said Draco, looking up sheepishly to meet Hermione's excited eyes. She looked proud of him and he felt a rush of warmth. Fuck, he loved this girl.

Their conversation flowed smooth and easy, and Draco was happier than he's been in ages, until both heard a familiar voice at the same time. They froze.

"Dracoooooo..."

"Oh fuck," muttered Draco. They were in a corner, there was no escape. The witch herself was looking for him.

"Get down," hissed Hermione, pulling her blazer off and shoving him under the desk. After a scramble, Draco found himself squashed under the tiny desk, with a blazer on his head, praying that Hermione's bag covered his feet.

And he should have been terrified that Pansy would spot him and expose him in his incriminating position and tell his parents he was fraternising with the Weasleys but strangely, he didn't care. Maybe it was Hermione's presence making him drunk but he felt giggles rising in his throat instead of fear. Disobeying parents felt good.

"Weasley," came Pansy's snobbish voice. "Have you seen Draco anywhere?"

"Who?" was Hermione's innocent reply. He could see Pansy's shiny black heels just inches away from the table. "Oh, you mean Malfoy? Of course not, why would I want to be affiliated with him?"

"I heard his voice."

"Oh well Parkinson, I guess you must have been hallucinating," she said, cheerfully. "No Malfoys here."

"I definitely heard talking, don't play stupid Weasley."

"I was talking to myself. I do that all the time. Don't you?"

Pansy gave a huff of annoyance and stormed off. Giggling madly, Hermione gestured at him to get out from underneath the table, before they grabbed their stuff and ran. Draco had never felt so alive—there was a thrum of adrenaline coursing through his blood as they hid behind a bookshelf and waited for Pansy to look the other way before they darted past.

The second they burst out of the library doors safely, both started howling with laughter. They didn't stop running—instead they hurtled through the corridors, nearly crashing into the Headmistress, and escaped into an empty classroom.

"Seriously, Hermione? 'I was talking to myself? Don't you talk to yourself?' You couldn't have been less suspicious if you tried," said Draco, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"It worked," she retorted, folding her arms across her chest defiantly, before descending into giggles again. They stayed in that classroom for the remainder of their lunch period, just talking and laughing together. They'd both missed it a lot more than they cared to admit.

Somehow, Draco found himself edging closer to Hermione as lunch break went on. It wasn't intentional. There was just something magnetic about the bushy-haired beautiful girl in front of him, about the way her eyes danced and her hands flew around her face. How did he manage to stay away from her for so long? Her laugh was a drug, especially when he was the one to draw it out of her with a cheeky comment or quip.

Almost against his will, he was drawn to her lips and found himself staring at them more than would be considered normal and remembering what it felt like to kiss them. He scolded himself inwardly. Pansy was still his fiancée, for fucks sake.

But still, she'd stopped talking and they were just looking at each other now. His heartbeat quickened. The moment seemed to hang between them on a thread. He put his hand over hers but before he could do something stupid, the bell rang and they both jumped violently.

Hermione was rather flushed when her next class began. 


	15. CHAPTER 13

Blaise scowled and turned another page of his book, wishing he could be bothered to go and turn a light on. The dorms were beginning to get dark and making him squint—he needed to be careful. Blaise was certain that glasses would ruin his impeccable facial structure.

"Blaise!" Ron Weasley burst into their dorm, flicking on the lights and tossing his sword on the bed. He'd evidently just come back from fencing practice. "So you know how Halloween's next Sunday?"

"Yeah," said Blaise, trying very hard not to stare at Ron's abs as he changed out of his sweaty shirt. He was Blaise Zabini for fuck's sake, 6"1 of haughty prestige, not a school kid obsessed with a straight ginger.

"I think we should throw a party."

"Where?" Blaise was intrigued, despite himself. He tossed his arithmancy textbook on the floor—polynomial equations were going to have to wait. "You can't be thinking of holding it in the 7th year common room, the teachers will spot it straight away."

"In here."

"In the dorms? You've got to be joking, I'm not cleaning up a bunch of drunk idiots and the place will be absolutely trashed in the morning. We have inspection on Monday."

"Got a better idea? C'mon Blaise, it'll be great. Besides, I've heard the 6th years are trying to throw a party in their common room so McGonagall will bust them and we'll be grand. Besides, it doesn't need to be a lot of people."

"Fine, Weasley. As long as we don't invite Pansy—we'll send her to the 6th year one. Fucking cow. Besides," he continued with a sly grin. "There's nothing better than a little alcohol to loosen the tongue. I know they're friends now but it's not enough—we'll see if we can get Draco and Hermione back together by the end of the night."

"I dunno man, the git's still engaged to Pansy, right? I don't want him to break my sister's heart again," frowned, Ron, biting his lip.

"Oh, believe me," replied Blaise. "I'm not going to let the git marry Pansy. It would destroy him. He's been my best friend since we were eight, and I'll damn well stand up and object at his wedding if it's to that cow."

Ron had to admire the steely loyalty and determination. Blaise's eyes had a slightly evil glint to them and he didn't doubt for a second that he could and would ruin his best mate's wedding.

"You know what mate? I'll come with you in disguise. Gatecrash their wedding, and chuck a pie at Lucius Malfoy's smug face."

Blaise snorted and picked his arithmancy book back up off the floor. "Stellar plan. That, I would pay to see."

It only took them a midnight excursion to town and the use of a crowbar to unhinge a section of the fence to get hold of alcohol. All the beds in the boys dorm were pushed against the wall, leaving plenty of space for dancing and Blaise thanked his lucky stars that the 7th year dormitories were damn far away from the teacher's wing.

Soon, music was pumping and the small dorm was packed with 7th years. It smelled like alcohol and sweat and girl's perfume but Blaise was having a brilliant time—probably effects of the funny coloured punch in the corner. The lights were dim, he was feeling easy and knew he looked good, and apparently Cormac McLaggen could see that too. He was a little surprised he wasn't completely straight, or at least he wasn't immune to Blaise's flirting: maybe everyone was a little gay for Blaise. Unfortunately, as rumoured, he was an obnoxious little fart.

And, to Blaise's delight, Hermione was sitting in Draco's lap in the corner. They didn't seem to be doing anything other than giggling and talking though and their hands were in responsible places. Blaise left Cormac and looked for Ron and Theo to make a cheeky comment and point out that their plan was working but they seemed to have disappeared.

He frowned, dismissing it. Ron was probably with a girl somewhere, he was plenty popular. Blaise elbowed Cormac's drunk hands out of the way and decided that it was too oppressive in the dorm and opted to take a walk around the grounds to clear his head.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the dorm, Draco was having the bloody time of his life. For once, Pansy wasn't clinging to his elbow—Blaise had confided that he'd let slip to Pansy that he would be at the 6th year party. And he didn't know how, but after a few shots Draco somehow managed to end up with a lap full of a giggling Hermione who's cheeks were flushed an adorable red.

He didn't know what he'd done for fate to be so nice to him but he wasn't about to complain.

"—see, I don't understand why the education system is rigged to disadvantage children who don't learn using traditional methods."

"Trust you," said Draco, slurring slightly. "To be ranting about the education system even while drunk. Only you."

She shrugged and leaned against his chest, thankfully stopping her passionate rant. He was scared she was going to accidentally smack him in the face. "S'not my fault it's terrible and the dingus of a Minister for Education is only perpetuating the harmful system."

"Of course. Ow."

"What?"

"You're giving me a dead leg."

"Sorry. Wait. Are you calling me fat?"

Draco grinned sloppily. Maybe that last shot wasn't strictly necessary. "Even if you were fat I'd love you anyway."

"Awww." Luckily she only laughed at his piss-poor excuse of awkward drunk flirting.

Wait. Did he just say he loved her? Whoops. Not like she didn't already know that.

"I'll get off if your weak legs can't take my weight."

"No, no stay. I'm enjoying this."

"How are you enjoying getting a dead leg?" she asked, rolling her eyes and standing up. She definitely wasn't as drunk as him.

"Because I like sitting close to you. I like you on my lap. Is that weird? Am I weird?" he mused, standing up with her. They'd gotten very close. "Is it weird that I'd happily get a dead leg for you to be close to me for a little longer?"

"I don't know Draco, am I really that irresistible?" smirked Hermione, leaning impossibly closer. Was that a challenge? It looked like a challenge.

Draco gently reached out an unsteady hand to cup her face. She just kept smirking. That defiant look in her brown eyes? That was definitely a challenge. And it was definitely the alcohol and it was definitely Blaise's plan all along and it was definitely a Bad Idea TM but he found himself leaning in and pressing a feather-light kiss to her lips. Right there in the dorms.

But when he felt her hand flutter down to rest on his waist, his brain caught up with him. He was doing the one thing he promised himself not to do: get romantically involved with Hermione again. It was bound to end in heartbreak all around.

That was when Draco did his second stupid thing that evening (or third, depending on whether he was blaming alcohol consumption on poor decision making). He pulled away as abruptly as he'd leaned in and legged it. He was engaged, for crying out loud. He needed some air.

He didn't dare look back and see the shocked and hurt expression that remained on Hermione's face.

Unfortunately, before he could get very far, he ran smack into none other than Pansy fucking Parkinson outside the door. For a second, he was scared that she'd somehow seen him kissing Hermione and freaked out—when he realised that there was no way she could have, he relaxed slightly. It was habit to lie to her at this point. He was just spinning some bullshit about going out to look for her when she decided to try and loop her arms around his neck.

Draco was repulsed. He couldn't get the image of Hermione, who should have been the one doing that, out of his brain. Seeing Pansy like that was wrong on many levels.

Instead of accepting her embrace, he let his drunk eloquence take over. "Fuck _OFF_ Pansy, why don't you? Always in my space. You're so fucking irritating, why can't you leave me alone for once?"

Oh boy, he was in trouble. If his parents found out he said that, they'd kill him. But he felt a wave of giddy satisfaction as he left her standing stumped in the corridors and marched away.

Tomorrow, he'd get a letter raging at him for treating his fiancée in that sort of abominable way. Maybe they'd threaten to disown him. Oh well. With grim satisfaction, Draco realised that he couldn't have given less of a shit if he'd tried. it felt good to rebel. 


	16. CHAPTER 14

Ron sighed and tried to remain calm for Hermione's sake. Inwardly, he was fuming: Malfoy was a fucking prick. What the hell did he think he was doing, hurting his sister like that?

Hermione furiously wiped her eyes with her sleeve while glaring daggers at Draco. Her only comfort was that Pansy was glaring at him too: they'd all heard the little exchange outside the dormitory. Honestly, if Hermione wasn't so pissed at him, she would have congratulated him on his excellent use of the phrase "fuck off".

On the other hand, he'd just decided to run off after kissing her. Pansy be damned, that was rude. As far as Hermione could tell, despite the drunk slip of tongue he was still planning on marrying Pansy. She knew his parents wouldn't let him off that easy.

Moodily, she stabbed a piece of bacon with her fork, making no real attempt to actually eat it.

"Mione, he's a coward. He just doesn't want to face his feelings. But I'm worried this nonsense is going to get you hurt, you know."

"Thanks Ron," she mumbled in response. Then, she stood up suddenly. "Will you look at that, we'd better get going or we'll be late for class."

Ron frowned and trailed after his twin, ignoring his hangover headache. She'd told him about Draco's kiss and run stunt the night before and his arguably idiotic, but still admirable decision to yell profanities at his fiancée.

He slid into his usual place next to Blaise in their Ancient History class.

"Morning Blaise," he mumbled but Blaise just made a non-committal sound under his breath. That was odd, but Ron blamed it on the alcohol they'd consumed the previous night. He was probably hungover.

Ron was just settling down to have a nap while Professor Binns started droning when he felt someone's eyes on him. There was nobody. But after he adjusted his bag on his desk to make a better pillow, he glanced up again to catch Theodore Nott's blushing face quickly darting out of his eye contact. He supposed it was only natural, even if they did say no strings attached. And nobody had seen them, right? Just Blaise?

The lesson was over quickly, probably because Ron managed to have a satisfying nap. Blaise was out of the door the second the bell rang, for whatever reason. So was Hermione, but Ron assumed it was because she wanted to avoid Malfoy, the blonde prick.

"Hey, Malfoy!" yelled Ron, speeding up his walk down the corridor.

Malfoy clenched his jaw and slowly spun on his heel as if it was causing him great pain. Yes, Ron was friends with his cousin and best friend, but he'd never actually gotten around to having an actual conversation with the blonde git. "Weasley."

"Hey, listen—"

"Make it quick Weasley, I've got class to go to."

"Fine," snapped Ron, rubbing the headache that was forming above his temple. "I'll make it quick. What the hell was that yesterday? What do you think you're doing, leading on my sister?"

Malfoy blanched and took a second to recover. With satisfaction, Ron noted that he had the grace to look supremely guilty.

"I'll be honest, Weasley. It was an accident. I didn't mean to do that."

"An accident? Malfoy you fucking kissed her and ran away. I don't care what your excuse is; that's bang out of order." Ron folded his arms and glared.

"I was drunk, Weasley. I'm not going to sprout any more bullshit other than that. You know I love her, that's no fucking secret at this point. But I am engaged. And I remembered halfway through and realised it's just going to hurt the both of us more." He scowled at Ron, but it was half-hearted. Ron might have felt sorry for him if he wasn't being so pathetic.

"For fucks sake Malfoy, you're not a child. I don't know what you think you're playing at, saying you love my sister when you're engaged to someone else? And planning on marrying Pansy? Either suck it up and tell your parents you're not marrying that fat cow, or stop fucking talking to my sister. She can see it hurts you and that's hurting her, goddammit," with satisfaction, Ron noted that Malfoy looked supremely guilty. Yelling at Malfoy was refreshing—he definitely felt more awake now. "And if you're planning on staying a coward and marrying her then at least step up your acting game, mate. Everyone can tell you're miserable. At least pretend to be happy so the rest of us don't have to deal with your pathetic moping all the time."

Draco scowled and glared. "How would you feel trapped with a cow? You really think it's that easy, Weasley?"

With a supressed groan of annoyance, Ron clenched his fists and prayed for strength. "How many times, you pathetic little git, you're not trapped? Walk away from her, you wanker. And if you insist on staying with her like the little pussy you are, I don't care how hard it is to act happy. Do it. Because goddammit, you're hurting my sister."

Draco was fuming now and feeling extremely defensive: Weasley had a point, but he wasn't about to admit that. "Yeah? I'm hurting your sister? Well you're hurting both my cousin and my best friend."

"What?" Ron was stumped. They were both definitely late to class now but neither cared. "They're my friends, how am I hurting them?"

"I know what you did, Weasley," seethed Malfoy. "Blaise told me. He saw you taking advantage of my cousin. In public, no less! If anyone saw, he'd have been disowned and it would have been your fucking fault."

"What?" That shocked Ron.

He thought back to the night before. In all honesty, it hadn't been the best decision, but no harm done, right?

He remembered sitting in the back of the dorms, taking his 5th shot with Theo. Was it his 5th? He couldn't quite remember, but he was pretty pissed. Even with their wary truce and reluctant friends situation, and despite their families' rivalry, they were getting along damn well. Normally, whenever they spoke, they had Blaise in the middle like some sort of intermediary, but 5 shots down and they were laughing together like they'd been friends for life. To Ron's surprise, despite being a Malfoy, Theo had a cracking sense of humour and seemed to trust him.

"Look at them," sniggered Theo, gesturing towards Blaise in the corner. He was evidently chatting up Cormac McLaggen, who was basically drooling as he looked at Blaise's tight T-shirt. In fairness, he looked good. Ron didn't know why but the sight made him slightly uncomfortable—probably because he was so used to Blaise being around them rather than over some douchebag.

"No," said Ron, grinning wider. "Look at _them_." He gestured towards the opposite corner of the room where his twin was sitting on Malfoy's lap and, by the looks of things, ranting. Malfoy was staring at her, enraptured. He probably wasn't listening to a word she was saying which was fair enough, Ron supposed. Knowing Hermione, she was probably ranting about SPUD or the Prince's stupid laws or something.

Theo frowned, leaning back. "Feels wrong."

"What?"

"Watching my cousin flirt," Theo pulled a face. "It's cringeworthy. Oh gods, look at them," he groaned, face palming. "Look at his cheesy grin. I bet he said something really, really stupid. He's lucky your sister likes him already and I don't know why, his flirting game is piss-poor."

"I dunno," sniggered Ron, elbowing his mate in the ribs. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a thing for Hermione as well."

"Oh, merlin above, no," replied Theo, looking horrified. Then, his expression melted into a cheeky smirk. "Actually, if anything, I prefer you."

"What?" Ron choked on nothing and started coughing violently. "Excuse me?"

It was definitely the alcohol that was buzzing in Theo's bloodstream but he seemed to trust Ron and took his reaction for shock rather than disgust. He shrugged and leaned back.

"What's that supposed to mean, mate? Tell me it was a joke."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," said Theo, hastily. "I don't like you. Not like that."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't in the right mindset to be dealing with that sort of bombshell drunk confession.

"But," Theo continued, but somewhat hesitantly. "I think I prefer men. To women. I think. I'm not sure I've never tried kissing a boy."

"Huh," Ron's eyes were wide. "Am I... the first person you told?"

"Yeah," replied Theo, flippantly. "Was going to tell Blaise but he's over in the corner flirting and I never really thought about it until recently."

"Huh." Ron was stumped. "Wait, so you like girls as well?"

"I dunno. I guess kissing them was kind of nice."

Ron slumped down on the bed, next to Theo, suddenly ignoring the party going on around them. Kissing a boy was not something he'd thought about before. "Mate, you think so?"

"Yeah. I've thought about it. Seems kinda nice."

"Huh." Ron thought about it. He supposed it wouldn't be much different to kissing a girl but maybe rougher—no, scratch that, Romilda Vane was bloody aggressive. He thought about kissing his best mate, or rather ex-best mate, Harry. Ew, hell no. But then again, Harry was like a brother to him. Maybe Blaise? _Honestly_ , thought Ron's drunk brain, _I don't think I'd mind that._

"You only like girls, don't you?" Theo's voice burst his bubble of thought and Ron jumped guiltily, banishing images of kissing Blaise from his mind.

"I like girls, definitely. I mean, I've got Lavender, innit?"

"You still haven't broken up with her?" said Theo, sitting up indignantly.

"Mate, believe me I didn't realise we were going out in the first place. But I have broken up with her, if there was anything to break up. But I don't know, I've never tried kissing a boy. I don't think I'd mind it too much."

And Ron didn't know how he ended up in their next position, crowding Theo against the wall in the corridors outside, but he was slightly nervous. He didn't know why. Kissing a bloke shouldn't be too different from kissing a girl, but then again, Theo was just a friend.

"Mate, you're sure about this?" he asked, anxiously. "I don't want to fuck up a perfectly good friendship. No feelings? We pretend this never happened in the morning?"

"No strings attached. It's just an experiment," confirmed Theo. "We don't tell anyone this happened and we don't have to talk about it again."

"Aight. Deal." And then Ron leaned in, somewhat hesitantly. If he was sober, there was absolutely no way he'd have agreed to do it.

But soon, he found himself snogging the brains out of Theodore Nott in the corridors at midnight. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what his brothers would think if they saw. Then he managed to lose himself in the sensation of fiercely kissing his mate. It wasn't half bad, honestly.

Ron blushed at the memory.

But then, of course, they'd both heard footsteps at the same time and broke apart to see Blaise walking away. Oops.

"Malfoy mate, I didn't take advantage of your cousin. It was consensual. We were experimenting. And nobody saw apart from Blaise and don't worry, we're definitely not dating."

Malfoy scowled. "Yeah, but did you think about what would have happened if his father found out his son was kissing a boy and a Weasley no less?"

"I'll admit," said Ron, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "We didn't think it through properly. But nobody else saw, so it's no big deal. We did our experimenting, it won't happen again."

"What if they did, though?"

"Hey, listen. It's not a proud moment. But he's not hurt. And besides, you said I was hurting your best friend as well. How am I hurting Blaise?" he snapped, diverting the topic.

Malfoy just shrugged haughtily.

"Blaise is one of my best friends, as close as Harry," Ron's voice cracked slightly, He'd forgotten Harry wasn't speaking to him anymore. "Anyway, I've never done anything to him."

Draco just shrugged again, stony-faced, and slung his bag back over his shoulder. "Think about it Weasley." Then, he turned on his heel and stormed off to his next class, leaving Ron standing there completely stumped. 


	17. CHAPTER 15

Hermione scowled and dipped her quill into her inkwell perhaps more aggressively than would have been considered necessary. The small pot tipped over and spilled all over her bedsheets and half-finished Literature essay. She cursed furiously and grabbed her parchment, struggling to blot it before it was beyond salvageable. There was nothing she could do about the sheets, stained dark blue, apart from take them to Madam Pomfrey, the matron, and ask her to wash them early.

Screw everything. Hermione groaned in defeat and slumped face-down on her bed. Screw Draco Malfoy in particular. He was refusing to leave her head.

She remembered last night vividly—she was nowhere near as drunk as everyone else, just tipsy. She remembered the dim light and the pulsing music and pale pink colour of the punch she was drinking. She remembered laughing and talking with Draco and falling in love with him all over again. Nobody else looked at her like she was the only thing in the world, even when she was ranting about politics.

Then he said some stupid, sweet nothings and she foolishly let her heart run away with her again. She let herself hope that he'd leave Pansy for good, for her. Screw him.

And she was stupid for letting him kiss her. She still more or less had her head in the right place, she could have stopped him. Reminded him that he still had Pansy. But she was weak and stupid and actually believed that he'd meant to do that and it wasn't a mistake.

She huffed again and rolled over onto her back. She was being pathetic. She should get up and go to dinner like everyone else and resolve not to be stupid and see Draco as anything more than a friend again.

"Hermione?"

She jumped. She didn't notice the person walking into the girl's dorms. "Draco! What are you doing here?" she snapped, recovering from her surprise and remembering she was supposed to be mad at him.

"Uhh... I was just looking for you actually," he squirmed uncomfortably. "I wanted to. You know. Apologise."

Hermione gaped at him. Draco Malfoy, apologising? Straight away? And not turning it into a massive convoluted mess of overthinking for months? 

"You're sorry?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for kissing you. Oh merlin, this is not going well," he flopped down on the bed opposite hers. "I mean, I don't regret kissing you, I liked that, but I probably shouldn't have done it but yeah, I definitely shouldn't have—"

Hermione laughed despite herself. "You're making a right mess out of this."

"I know," he groaned, putting his hands over his face. "I probably shouldn't be admitting this. But. I very much wanted to kiss you but it was a bad move? Yeah. That. Not while I still have Pansy still hanging over my back. Can we still be friends, even though I fucked up and led you on like the idiot I am?" he asked, peeking through his fingers.

"Course, you idiot," smiled Hermione, inwardly disappointed that he hadn't decided to break off his engagement yet. "Just no funny business. I think, while we're still floundering in this whole mess, we need to establish some boundaries."

Draco blew out a breath of relief and sat up. "Oh thank Merlin. I thought I'd messed up enough to lose a friend. Right. Boundaries."

"Yeah," she said, folding her arms over her chest. "We have to remain firmly just friends. While you're still with Pansy, technically, I'm not doing anything that friends wouldn't do together. So you know, flirting to a minimum and definitely no kissing."

"Right. Yes. Okay, we can do that, easy," he replied, giddy with relief. "Thank you so much Hermione, I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you. You're the best."

"Hmmm," she teased. "Watch it Draco, that could count as flirting."

"Nah," he grinned back. "Not when it's the truth and the truth alone."

But as the weeks slipped away, those lines steadily became more and more blurred whether they intended them to or not. Their flirting wasn't exactly subtle in their Literature class, where they sat next to each other and argued over the symbolism behind fictional characters. Literature was one of Draco's strong points and somewhere that he could actually debate Hermione's interesting points. It was also one of her passions, which made it easy for him to rile her up before she realised he was teasing.

And when they escaped to empty classrooms together, giggling madly and holding hands, both tried silently convincing themselves _this is what friends do_. They avoided Pansy together, sneaking around the school like spies and laughed in Snape's face when he caught them talking. 

Predictably, Draco received an extremely angry letter from his parent concerning his awful behaviour. He pulled the letter out of the fancy envelope, discarding the fancy seal into the fire. They were in the common room and Hermione was lounging on the sofa next to him, using his lap as a foot-rest. They'd long since given up hiding their friendship—technically, they weren't doing anything wrong. Draco had the right to talk to whoever he wanted.

Of course, when people started noticing there were confused whispers about Malfoys and Weasleys actually getting along, but nobody really cared except Pansy.

And to his surprise, Draco wasn't really nervous when he opened the letter. He was past the point of giving a single shit.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked casually, looking up from her arithmancy homework. Blaise, Ron and Theo, who were copying it, looked up as well.

_Son._

_Your mother and I have heard about exactly what you deemed acceptable to say to your fiancée. I am certain that you know full well that the abominable way you treated her will not be tolerated. I am also certain that you know the full extent of our displeasure so I have opted not to trouble you with the details. Needless to say, we have never been so ashamed of you in our lives. We don't know what has gotten into you but you will apologise to Miss Parkinson._

_Regardless, we've also heard of your other exploits at school. Our disappointment only grew when Severus informed us of your chosen social circle. I am warning you to rethink who you are associating yourself with. I've heard rumours of you and Theodore both fraternising with Weasleys and needless to say, it was a horrible shock to us. I can only hope that Severus was mistaken._

_As concerned parents, we have no choice but to urge you to rethink your behaviour. You were sent to Hogwarts for a reason, and rest assured, you are not even close to meeting our expectations. There will be consequences for continually failing to do so._

_Regards,_

_Your ever-loving father and mother._

It was signed and stamped with the Malfoy crest.

"What a load of bull," snorted Ron, and Blaise nodded his agreement. Draco casually tossed it into the fire and watched it burn.

However, Theo looked slightly concerned. "Mate, they sound pissed. What do you think they'll do to us when we go back for Christmas?"

"The hell are they going to do?" shrugged Draco, not really giving a shit. "Disown me? I'm the only Malfoy heir, they can't. imagine the scandal."

Theo didn't look convinced.

Two weeks later, Lucius Malfoy was apparently concerned enough to actually show up outside Hogwarts after Draco flat-out refused to apologise to his fiancée. It was pretty entertaining, watching them screaming at each other in front of the entire student body.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! I AM FLABBERGASTED! APPALLED!"

"Good for you," snapped Draco, defiantly flicking his hair out of is eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Good for you? Watch your mouth, son. You are on your way to disgracing the entire Malfoy lineage!"

"Tragedy," he deadpanned.

For a second, it looked like Mr Malfoy was actually going to hit his son but Draco didn't flinch.

"I suggest you change your attitude immediately, _son_ ," he spat out the last word as if it had a vile taste. "And rethink the people you choose to affiliate yourself with."

"I can talk to whoever I want, _father._ That's not illegal, is it? Not last I checked."

"Your mother and I are at our wit's end trying to guide you but if you continue to resist, our methods will have to become more... drastic."

"Boo hoo. I'm shaking at the knees. Are you done yet, father? I have an assignment to complete and you wouldn't want your disappointment of a son to fall further behind on school work."

With a last ugly scowl, Lucius Malfoy stormed away in his rage. Draco smiled smugly. Oh boy, he was going to be in so much shit when he came back for the holidays but for now, he didn't really care. Why hadn't he done his little teenage rebellion earlier?

"Draco," frowned his cousin, coming over to where he was standing. "Was that really a good idea? That was a lot of cheek and they can make your life hell when you get back."

Draco just shrugged. "Maybe. But for now, I'm saying it was worth it. Did you see his face? Besides, it's not like I'm doing anything wrong, talking's not against the law."

Dimly, he knew Theo had a point. But then again, he was also standing up for himself. This is what he wanted to do right? He tried to push away his misgivings until later.

"Draco!" Hermione rushed over to where he was still standing, a beaming smile on her face. "That was brilliant!"

And fuck, if Hermione was proud of him then it was damn well worth it.

But still, Hermione couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed that even though he was finally thinking with his own brain rather than his parents', he still hadn't said that he was refusing to marry Pansy Parkinson. 


	18. CHAPTER 16

It was finally Christmas and Hermione was home and happy. To be fair, she would have wanted Draco there with her but that couldn't be helped—he had his own family to spend Christmas with. She'd missed the burrow.

Her whole family was finally home together. Admittedly, it was a tight squeeze with every single one of her brothers and Fleur and Harry, Remus and Sirius but Hermione didn't mind. She loved her family, even when they were driving her up the wall.

The whole house was chaotically decorated and Hermione had to laugh as she watched Harry and Ginny argue over what colour tinsel to put over the banister. They were honestly the cutest couple and Hermione was grateful that they'd stopped sneaking around. Ron and Harry had made grudging peace and were more or less back to normal after Hermione had forced them to apologise to each other.

Hermione's thinking was interrupted by a screech from upstairs.

"Sacre bleu! Quelle horreur!" wailed Fleur, running down the stairs with her beautiful white-gold hair loose. "What eez this?"

"What?" snapped Harry and Ginny in unison, ignoring their previous disagreement about the colour of the tinsel to gang up on Fleur.

"You cannot put ze green on 'zis wood! Eet looks terrible! Can't you see zat the wood of the railing has warm undertones, wheech would look much better with ze red and gold tinsel?"

"I told you!" smirked Ginny, triumphantly. "Suck on that, Harry Potter, I was right as usual."

Hermione snorted. Bill's wife was quite something but at least she'd dropped some of her airs and had grown to act as part of the family now. She could only hope that Fleur didn't go downstairs and see the god-awful job that Fred and George did of decorating the sitting room—it looked like someone put a bomb in Santa's workshop. Fleur would have an aneurysm.

When the chaos of the evening finally died down and night fell over the house, Hermione grabbed her boots and coat and snuck out. The door closed with a soft click.

With a shiver of delight, Hermione noticed it was snowing again as she walked briskly through the town. The chilly air made her cheeks glow pink and forced her to borrow her hands deeper into her pockets. There was something very beautiful about winter—Christmas added a sort of charm to the softly glowing gold streetlights and illuminated the wreaths on people's doors. On one hand, it was a shame it was too late to hear to faint notes of Christmas carols in the wind but on the other, there was something magical about the peace in the air.

Hermione's boots made a satisfying crunch with every step she took on the fresh snow. As she waited for Draco to arrive, she admired the patterns that her breath made in the crisp winter air.

"Boo!"

Hermione was greeted when two gloved hands slapped her in the face with snow.

"Draco!" she hissed. "You imbecile!"

"I'm sorry!"

But Hermione was never one to back down from a challenge and she was already gathering snow into her hands, ignoring the way the cold bit into her skin and made it sting. Her aim was true. Two seconds later, Draco was coughing and spluttering and struggling to get snow out of his mouth.

"Come on ferret, this means war," she grinned, pelting him with more snow as he whined and struggled to get it out of his hair.

Draco took off running towards the local park, past the fountain which had frozen into peculiar yet beautiful shapes. He scooped another handful of snow and lobbed it at her head. It missed.

They continued messing around in the snow like children, giggling and shrieking, until a sentry patrol came around the corner and forced them to hide behind a bush. They waited in silence for them to pass, stifling their giggles. As Hermione peered out from the bushes, Draco couldn't help becoming hyper-aware of their close proximity. Hermione was beautiful in the winter, with her cheeks red from the chill winter air and crystals of snow dusting her eyelashes like a million tiny diamonds.

_Not your girlfriend, Draco._

He gulped and tried getting those traitorous ideas out of his head. He remembered their agreement. No funny business until he grew the balls to tell his parents that there was no way he was marrying Pansy.

The second the sentries left, they moved to sit on a bench in the park. It was beautiful and clear—it had stopped snowing and the moon was out, full and round. Draco would have been happy to sit there forever, just admiring Hermione underneath the moonlight, until she turned around and shoved her freezing cold hands up his shirt. He cursed and swore at her but she just laughed and cuddled into his side.

"Hermione, why didn't you wear gloves?"

"I forgot. Besides, throwing snow in your face was so worth the cold hands."

"Hmmm. How's your Christmas holidays going, Hermione?"

"Great, actually," she beamed, sitting up in excitement. "My whole family's home!"

"What, all your 7 siblings?" he huffed a laugh. "How's that going? I can't imagine sharing my house with that many people."

"Well obviously everyone's fighting," said Hermione with a fond smile on her lips. "But I couldn't imagine it any other way."

She launched into a description of every single one of her family members and what they'd gotten up to so far—and it was only 2 days into the Christmas holidays. Draco smiled wistfully, and his soft envy must have shown. He wished his family was as loving as hers. Gods, he was going mad, he'd never wanted to be a Weasley before.

"Are you alright, Draco?" she frowned slightly and ran a cold thumb over his cheekbone.

"Course. Your family sounds amazing. I never thought I'd be saying that about the Weasleys," he chuckled.

"Is everything alright? At home?" she asked anxiously. "You know, with your parents mad that you're not getting along with Pansy and all."

He paused for a moment before speaking. "I mean... I'm fine. My parents are colder than usual but other than that it's not too different. Theo's the one that's got a problem though—"

"Really? What's he done wrong?" said Hermione, her eyes widening in concern.

"Well, he's not technically done much wrong. But his dad's a nutcase, even worse than my parents. It's probably why he was such a dick before coming to Hogwarts and mellowing out a bit. I'm worried about him. His dad heard about the whole fraternising with Weasley thing and..." 

"And?"

Draco hesitated. "My uncle's trying to convince him to join what's basically an illegal cult."

"What? He can't—"

"Yeah. They're an undercover group who haven't let go and are trying to restart the civil war from decades ago. Uncle Nott's a fanatic."

"Merlin. What's he going to do?"

"Luckily, my parents don't approve and are trying to shield him, saying he's too young, you know. The lot. But I don't know Hermione, he's just turned 18 and his dad's not very forgiving."

Hermione winced. "I'm sure it will be fine. Why can't they call the sentries about this cult?"

"It's complicated." Draco desperately wanted to stop talking about it. "In other news, Pansy and her family are supposed to be coming over just after Christmas and I can't say I'm looking forwards to that."

Hermione winced in sympathy. "Maybe when they see how badly you guys get along, they'll stop trying to force you to marry her."

"I wish. But unfortunately, no."

"Merlin, your Christmas sounds awful—stuck with Pansy for New Year!"

"Believe me," he said gloomily. "I'm done with her. The second I turn 18, I'm out."

"Wait—are you saying—" Hermione could hardly believe her ears.

Draco blushed and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I spoke to my parents again begging them to cancel the marriage but obviously they refused. But I don't know," he poked Hermione teasingly. "Someone's a bad influence. I'm not marrying Pansy and if they disown me so be it."

"Wait... really?"

"Yes really," he sighed dreamily and leaned back. "I'm done with them. Screw my family. When I finish school I'm going to get a job, maybe in a café or something, or an apprenticeship. I'll be 18 by that time so I can move out and make my own money, maybe even get my own place."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes were sparkling. "Merlin, Draco, that's amazing! I'm so proud of you."

Then she crushed him in a fierce hug, the unspoken promise hanging between them. Soon, they could be together. 


	19. CHAPTER 17

There was a brightness in the air and chaos in the house on Christmas morning. Fred and George had already managed to prank 4 of their 7 siblings and it wasn't even lunch time yet—Hermione watched torn between amusement and disapproval as Percy screamed at them for putting blue dye into his soap. Honestly, they hadn't changed a bit—Fred and George were nearly 20 and Percy was two years older than that but they still acted like they were about 5.

"Fred!" raged Mrs Weasley. "Explain this at once!"

"I'm not Fred, I'm George! Get my name right and I'll think about explaining it," he replied in mock outrage.

"George, then! Explain yourself."

She brandished a framed family photo she'd taken off the wall. Even Hermione had to contain her snort of laughter—someone, either Fred or George but probably both of them, had stuck printed pictures of Dumbledore on everyone's faces.

George looked up at her innocently. "What? There's nothing to explain mum, the picture looks decent to me. It's looked the same for three days now."

Mrs Weasley was not pleased but everyone was in good spirits by the time Christmas lunch rolled around. The food was delicious, as usual, and there was enough of it to feed a small village. Molly had prepared two golden turkeys that dripped with sauce and there were numerous bowls of piping hot roast potatoes and vegetables. Ron was having a field day as he demolished his third plate of food.

Merlin, Hermione loved Christmas. Everyone in her family was getting steadily more and more tipsy as the evening went on and there was merriment all around as Mrs Weasley lit up their Christmas pudding. It looked ethereal as always in the dim lighting and the flames caught the shimmering gold patterns on everyone's Weasley jumpers—Fleur had worked hand-in-hand with Mrs Weasley that year and all the jumpers had hand-embroidered designs in shining gold thread.

And half an hour later, when the evening was beginning to wind down, Hermione was certain that her mother definitely had a bit too much to drink.

"You know dears, your father and I were wondering if we hadn't been too harsh when we enrolled you to Hogwarts," she said, taking another gulp of wine.

"I think so too," chirruped Fred. "Personally, I think they should have been rewarded."

"Precisely," George slammed his hand down on the table. "Hermione threw a commendable punch. Punch of the year."

"And square on the Malfoy cousin's nose," beamed Sirius, clapping Hermione of the back as Arthur nodded his approval. Molly and Remus turned to glare at them.

"I mean," he hurriedly backtracked. "That was irresponsible and dangerous but as far as punches go, I'm very impressed."

With one last poisonous look, Molly continued her train of thought. "You two can drop out of Hogwarts and go back to your old school if you want."

"Oh no," Ron beat Hermione to it. "You know what mum, you were right and it was a brilliant decision. Thanks mum, but we're staying."

Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Oh!" Mrs Weasley looked pleasantly surprised. "Well in that case..."

Their conversation was winding down and Bill and Fleur were talking of getting the board games out when there was a sudden knock on the door. Everyone stopped and turned around. Who was calling at their door on Christmas Day?

"It's probably a caroller," said Bill. "I'll go get it, give them a few coins and tell them to bugger off."

But when he returned, it was with someone in tow who definitely not a caroller. The whole Weasley family went completely silent and Bill hovered in the doorway looking extremely awkward.

"He came to the door and I didn't really know what to do—"

Theodore Nott was standing in their doorway, shivering profusely, sporting a bloody lip and a black eye. He was soaked through and his teeth were chattering and for once, instead of the haughty Malfoy sneer, he looked terrified and exhausted.

Nobody really knew what to do with the Malfoy cousin trembling on their doorstep.

"What the FUCK?" Fred voiced everyone's thoughts perfectly. Mrs Weasley didn't even tell him to watch his language she was too stunned.

"I didn't... I didn't know where else to go," the trembling boy at their doorstep mumbled.

That seemed to knock Ron out of his daze—he jumped up and ran to his friend and invited him in. Then, sounding rather like Mrs Weasley, he insisted he take his freezing cold and sopping wet jacket off and met his family's judgemental gazes with his own defiant stare. Nott seemed too out of it to notice the entire family of redheads glaring at him.

"Excuse me," Fred broke everyone out of their stupor. "But can someone please explain why there's a Malfoy in our house?"

"Shut it Fred," scowled Ron, whirling around to face his family. "He's my friend."

"Awww," George goaded. "Is ickle Ronniekins defending a Malfoy? Has he gone soft? I bet the Malfoy boy's been sent to spy on us."

"Fred! George!" snapped Mrs Weasley, her motherly instincts finally kicking in. Malfoy or not, there was a freezing child in her house who'd evidently been abused. Molly saw sense and ordered Ron to take Theo upstairs at once and give him some dry clothes. Then, she scolded Fred and George for their insensitive behaviour while simultaneously fretting about the bruises on the poor boy's face.

"Hermione! Be a dear and collect some leftovers for him, he looks famished. Merlin... who knows what those Malfoys have been doing to the poor child," she shook her head forlornly.

Hermione hastened to follow her mother's orders and scooped up a sizeable portion of Christmas dinner and a mug of spiced wine before dashing up the stairs, almost tripping over the tinsel in her haste. She was worried.

Theo was sitting on the side of Ron's bed, sobbing into his shoulder as he hugged him. Hermione quickly set the food on the table.

"Oh Merlin, he tried to get you to join the cult didn't he?" said Hermione, white-faced in fear. What if they beat Draco and kicked him out as well? She felt fear curl in her stomach.

But before he could reply, Molly burst in with Bill and Charlie in tow, who were carrying a camp bed and pillows and blankets. She took one look at the broken boy crying in her son's arms and pulled him into a proper mother's hug. He froze in shock at first but eventually relaxed into Molly Weasley's arms. Honestly, the boy didn't look like he'd ever had a hug in his life.

"What happened?" Molly asked anxiously as soon as his crying subsided. Hermione stood in the corner biting her nails. What if something happened to Draco too?

Theo looked hesitant for a second before steeling his resolve and frowning. Yes, he wasn't supposed to say the things he was about to say but he had no loyalty to his family anymore—after all these years, he'd finally realised that blood didn't mean everything like he'd been taught since birth. He owed nothing to his father. They weren't family anymore: his father had made that quite clear.

With shaky breath but silent determination, Theo told the Weasleys about the Death Eaters planning on rising again and organising a putsch against Prince Dumbledore. When his father insisted he join the cult, Theo had refused and been beaten and imprisoned in his own room, before escaping with nothing but a thin jacket into the cold Christmas air.

"I'm sorry Mrs Weasley," he mumbled, wiping the last tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry for ruining your Christmas but I didn't know where else to go."

"Nonsense!" said Molly, obviously horrified that someone would do such a thing to their own child. "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need. At least until we get your father locked up and behind bars," she finished, exchanging a dark look with her oldest son. They all looked troubled.

Hermione could tell that this ran a lot deeper than the information Theo had and definitely deeper than her mother was letting on.

But finally, after Mrs Weasley was done fussing and ensuring he was comfortable, she left the three of them alone in the room. An awkward silence descended.

"Merlin Theo... you're sure you're good, mate?" asked Ron.

Theo laughed bitterly. "As good as I can get after being disowned and fucking hit by my own dad, yeah. Fucking hell, I'm thick for not seeing it was coming sooner."

"Draco," enquired Hermione anxiously. "Is Draco alright?"

"Yeah," Theo replied, slumping down onto Ron's bed. "His parents might be elitist dicks, but at least they're not batshit crazy like my dad is. They actually stood up for me you know. And they want nothing to do with the fucking cult."

Hermione bit her lip. Theo looked shattered. It was all any of them could do but hope that it was going to turn out alright. 


	20. CHAPTER 18

The next morning was awkward to say the least. Theo didn't really know what to do with himself among the mess of redheads in the house, all of whom looked at him warily despite their mother's scolding. He didn't blame them. Honestly, Hogwarts was the best thing that had ever happened to him—of course, he'd realised his father's morals were questionable, to say the least, pretty early on. But he'd never known what to do about it before and never knew anything different.

But Theo wasn't stupid. Very early into his time at Hogwarts, he'd taken a good look at himself and realised he'd been radicalised. There really wasn't anything particularly bad about the Weasleys—true, it was a bit of a nasty shock when he realised his cousin was head over heels with one of them but then again, Ron was actually kind of fun to hang around. Those precious moments at Hogwarts without his father's oppressive presence hanging over him and telling him he was a failure were extremely eye-opening.

Quite frankly, he was jealous looking around the Weasley house. They were all polite to him even though he was a Malfoy—something that Theo knew would not be the case if their positions were reversed. If a red-haired child showed up on his father, or even his Uncle Lucius' doorstep they would be thrown away with a laugh. And even though he was getting wary looks, he'd still never felt more comfortable sitting by the fire, in Ron's Weasley sweater, as his older brothers played Monopoly.

"Bill works in the bank," Ron informed him, offering him a piece of chocolate. "He wins every time and Fred and George always start a fight about it. Unless Fleur's playing, then she always wins. She's a bloody genius with that sort of thing, no point playing against her."

They both watched as Fred screeched and flipped the board while George dived across the table to grab Charlie's cash and Percy screamed something about dirty cheating. Bill just sat there laughing. Theo felt lump in his throat at the sight, again wishing for a family like that. Even when he was a kid, Christmas was always a dumb and formal occasion. The highlights were early in the morning before the grown-ups could wake up, when he would play dragons with Draco and Pansy, before she turned into a cow.

"Ron mate, wanna get married?"

"What?"

"I want in. Your family is amazing and I'm jealous."

"Now you know the real reason Draco likes me," said Hermione cheerfully, dumping a plate of fresh-baked cookies between them. "Because my family acts like that—"

She gestured towards the monopoly board where Fleur had gotten involved and was cussing them all out in French about their shitty financial decisions and Ginny was fighting George over the car piece for their next game. Sirius Black very obviously had money stuffed up his sleeve—he was youthful as ever and still acted like the rebellious teenager who ran away from the ancient and noble house of Black at the tender age of 16. In the middle of a war, no less.

Theo always secretly admired him for that, even though his name was disgraced by everyone Theo's father affiliated himself with. Theo was touched when Sirius had taken the time to approach him that morning and quietly congratulated him on escaping his toxic family circle. He knew how hard it was to leave.

And Theo also suspected that Sirius spoke to Lord Harry Potter because there was no other way he would've taken the time to approach him and mutter an apology. Theo didn't hesitate to admit he was a dick before and make his own apologies.

It was coming up to noon when there was a knock on the door. Fred bounded up to get it, shouting playfully that if it was another Malfoy he was going to have to put his foot down.

"Well hello good sir! What brings you to—MALFOY?" they heard Fred shriek. "Another one? What the bloody fuck?"

Hermione went ghost-white and sprinted to the door, with Ron, Theo and the rest of the Weasley family at her heels.

And Fred wasn't playing around. Draco Malfoy was standing on their porch, with nothing but concern in his eyes, trying to look past Fred's arm and see inside.

Mrs Weasley muscled her way past her sons and Hermione. Luckily, most of her family were focussed on the blonde teen outside their door to notice how terrified Hermione looked.

"Yes?" Molly asked, looking wary. "What can we do for you, Mr Malfoy?"

"Is Theo with you?"

"What of him?" Mrs Weasley still refused to let Draco see inside. Theo could tell that Draco was shaken at the amount of Weasleys rallying around him.

"I just need to know he's okay. Please say he's in there," begged Draco, his voice taking on a note of desperation.

"Will you look at that," quipped George, his mouth open in shock. "Who would've thought it? Looks like Malfoy's got a heart after all."

"George. Hold your tongue," snapped Mrs Weasley. "He's with us, yes, and we're taking good care of him. Don't you dare think about trying to pressure him to go back to his father, young man. Your uncle is a madman."

"Thank Merlin. I won't," Draco's shoulders slumped forwards in relief. "Thank you so much Mrs Weasley."

Theo couldn't take it anymore and darted underneath Fred's arm to get to his cousin. Draco's face lit up when he saw him and pulled him into a tight hug. As his only cousin from his father's side, they were always very close even though they didn't always see eye to eye.

"Theo! Merlin, you're okay," laughed Draco and if he didn't know better, he would have said there were tears in his eyes. "I was looking for you all fucking morning, I thought you'd died of cold! Mate, I even went all the way out to the countryside to see if you'd made it to Blaise's."

"I'm right here," beamed Theo, unable to contain a warm smile towards the family of redheads who were looking at them in stunned silence. Apparently they didn't realise Malfoys were capable of affection.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Draco asked, already knowing the answer.

"Lord, no. There's no way in hell. You heard my father; I've been disowned. I'll go back to school and then when I'm done, I'll get a job. I'm never speaking to that man again."

"Good."

"Listen, Draco," Theo started anxiously. "You won't tell my dad where I am, will you?"

"I would never. I'll tell my mother and father that you're alright—they're worried about you—but I won't tell uncle. Not in a million years. Take care of yourself, yeah?" Draco hugged his cousin one last time and offered a curt but respectful nod to the Weasleys, before he turned and walked back down the path.

None of the Weasleys knew what to make of the situation. It was only getting stranger and stranger.

***

Hermione started awake, trying to figure out what had woken her up. She scanned the room suspiciously. It all looked normal—the whole house was silent. She squinted at the clock on the wall, peering past the ghostly-looking furniture in the moonlight. It read 3:43am.

She'd just resolved that she'd woken up for no reason apart from her stupid brain when she heard it again: soft tapping on the window. Hermione sat up faster than a bullet and the window was open in seconds.

"Draco? What are you doing here? I though we decided it would be too risky," she muttered, not caring as he got snow all over her bed as he tumbled into her room.

"I need to talk."

"About what?" asked Hermione anxiously. He looked agitated. "You haven't—your parents haven't threatened to disown you as well?"

"Merlin, no. Worse," he groaned, slumping his head in his hands.

"Worse? How?" squawked Hermione.

"Shhh! Keep it down Beaver, or the rest of your family will burst in and kill me. No, my parents have organised my wedding early. Tomorrow evening."

"What?" she gasped, horrified. She'd honestly never seen Draco looking more broken. "But... that's no warning at all! They can't!"

"I'm not doing it. I can't picture the rest of my life with Pansy," he said in despair. "I love you Hermione," he declared passionately, not caring about any of their past agreements not to get romantically involved again until Pansy was out of the picture. "I love you too much to look at another woman in that way. And you've given me the courage to see it, and for that I have to thank you. You helped me open my eyes and see something beautiful."

He smiled sadly and took her stunned hand, brushing a hair away from her face. She was beautiful as always, sitting in the moonlight in her pyjamas, the traces of sleep in her eyes. Reality was only just catching her up. He didn't think he'd ever seen her looking so open.

"You're leaving, aren't you? You're running away?"

"Yes."

"No!" she grasped his hand with passion, as if to hold him there forever. "Stay here! I'll tell my mother what's happened, she won't mind you here in the slightest! You can stay here until term starts and we all go back to school again."

"I can't," he whispered and cupped her cheek. The tears brimming in her eyes shattered his heart into a million tiny pieces. "I'm not 18 yet, love. Theo's of age, he's allowed to stay wherever he wants and his parents can't do anything. I turn 18 in June. If I stayed and they found me, your parents would get into a lot of trouble with the Law, knowing my parents." He sounded bitter.

"What will you do? Where will you go?"

"I've got it planned out. I'll take my horse and escape to the next Kingdom. My disgraced Aunt Andromeda—my mother's sister—lives there. I can finish my education. Then I promise, once I turn 18, I'll come straight back to you."

"Draco, I don't think I could bear being away from you for so long. When are you leaving?"

"Tonight. This is your fault you know," he gave a watery chuckle and ran a hand down her hair. "You're a bad influence, Hermione. You gave me the courage to defy my parents, you opened my eyes to the world. You never gave up on me and showed me I was living in a cage and gave me the hand to step out. And I'm so, so grateful for it."

"You sappy little shit," she smiled sadly. "Draco, I'm really proud of you and you know that right?"

"Yeah."

"But you're also completely thick."

"What?"

"You didn't really think I was going to let you run away by yourself? I'm coming with you, dummy."

Draco's jaw dropped but he knew she wasn't joking, not when she looked like that. It was the expression he'd first fallen in love with, and the one he spent hours dreaming about. It was the determined look, with her jaw set square and her eyes blazing. It was so typically _Hermione_ and he wanted to preserve it in a little box and keep it with him forever. And when she wore it, he knew there was no changing her mind.

"What? You can't be serious, can't leave your family!"

"Says who?" said Hermione, stubbornly. "They have each other. I'll leave a note explaining what I've done and that I'm safe. They'll understand eventually. Besides, it's not like I'm gone forever: just until you turn 18 and we can get married."

"Married?" he asked faintly, a hopeful glint blossoming in his eyes. Fuck, he was tearing up. "You'd want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Draco, I haven't known you for all that long but I've never been so certain of something in my life. I love you now and I'll love you forever and if you'd permit it, I'd be honoured to marry you once you turn 18."

"Really?"

"Yes really, you idiot. That is, if you don't annoy me too much in the next 6 months," she teased.

"But Hermione, are you sure you want to come with me? To leave your family, even Ron?" He'd never felt so light in his life but he had to be certain. Was she really willing to give up her loving family, for him?

"Positive. Besides, it's not like you'd make it anywhere on your own," smirked Hermione. "You can't seriously have thought getting a horse and riding away was a good plan. It's set up for disaster: the next Kingdom is at least a two day gallop from here. The second the sentries discover you missing, they'll be on you in no time. We can't have that. What we need is a plan."

And as Hermione was scheming, a million different ideas all running through her head at the same time, Draco knew he'd marry her one day, his parents be damned. Then, he leaned in to press a soft kiss against her lips. 


	21. CHAPTER 19

Their plan was simple, or not so simple depending on whether it was from Hermione or Draco's perspective. But either way, Hermione flat of refused to let Draco escape that night.

"But Hermione! My wedding is in less than 15 hours."

"Draco. I hate to break this to you, but it's 4am. Nearly dawn. If we leave now, the sentries will catch us within hours: all this fresh snow means that hoof-prints are easily trackable. It won't work."

Draco didn't even bother ask her what she was planning on doing instead. She was clearly deep in thought. After a few minutes of tense silence, Hermione finally spoke up.

"I think our best bet is you faking sick."

"Hermione, that's not going to work! They'll never believe me, they know I don't want to marry Pansy."

"Oh I don't know. I think with some help you could be pretty... convincing."

"I'm not sure I'm going to like where this is going," commented Draco, looking faintly at Hermione's evil smirk.

And that was how they found themselves standing freezing cold in a dark alley at 5am, while Hermione banged on an old wooden door.

"Hermione, are you sure this is going to work? What if he's not in?" asked Draco, his anxiety spiking by the second. It was almost morning and he needed to get back to the Manor, or he'd be caught.

"Oh, he'd better be in. He owes me," Hermione replied grimly. Draco didn't bother ask why.

"What kind of ridiculous time at the crack of fucking dawn is this piss off I'm _closed—_ oh. Hermione. And... that's _not_ the Malfoy boy? Blimey woman, what do you want me to do, poison the little rat?" a droopy-looking man with a mean glint in his eyes stared at the two of them in shock.

"Mundungus," she greeted him. "No, not poison. Something that will make him badly sick for a couple of hours but then wears off. Quickly. And no questions asked please, and not a word."

"Blimey. You better come in, so you don't let the snow in. Hang in there Hermione, while I find it; I haven't used _that_ sort of potion in years."

They watched his hunched back shuffle further into the dingy little store and start sorting through hundreds of tiny bottles. The apothecary was dark and dingy. There were hundreds of herbs and open potions bubbling on every available surface that mingled with the strong scent of damp and mould in the air.

Draco was feeling quite dizzy from it when Mundungus Fletcher finally emerged from the back of the shop holding a small green vial. They both looked at it sceptically.

"A special tonic. A rare tonic. I don't know what you're using it for, but take it an hour before you want it to take effect. It will make you feel dizzy and faint within an hour, before leading to collapsing, very high temperature, irregular pulse and even seizures. Which one of you is taking it?"

"No questions asked, remember?" said Hermione, tightly. "When does the poison wear off?"

"I was only asking because if you have any underlying health conditions it will almost certainly lead to cardiac arrest and certain death," he said cheerfully. "But if you hydrate adequately beforehand, you sweat it out in a couple of hours max."

"Thank you," said Hermione, snatching the bottle from his hands.

"Uh-uh. That will be 2 galleons please."

"What?" Hermione glared into his bloodhound eyes. "You owe me, Fletcher."

"Yeah, and I'm not saying anything at all about this little purchase you've made, and I'm not asking questions. It's an illegal tonic, you know," he smirked.

Hermione gritted her teeth but opened her purse anyway. "Fine. C'mon Draco, let's get out of here."

***

It would be an understatement to say that Draco was scared shitless standing at his wedding. He'd taken the potion just over 40 minutes ago and was starting to feel dizzy and faint, just like Fletcher said, and he was desperately praying that he didn't have some underlying health conditions that he didn't know about. Though to be fair, certain death sounded a whole lot nicer than marrying Pansy.

"Mother, I feel ill. In fact, I feel quite faint," announced Draco.

"It's just nerves," she assured him, but looked concerned as she checked his temperature. "It's normal. Come on, let's get into the ceremony. You'll be a married man in an hour."

Was it just Draco, or did she look sympathetic? He wondered how long it took his mother to actually come around to liking Lucius. Aunty Andromeda was shunned from the family for refusing to go ahead with her arranged marriage, and Narcissa had ended up with Lucius instead.

"May I have a glass of water?"

"Of course, darling," Narcissa said, waving a servant child over.

And Merlin, the priest was reading the vows like the terms and conditions on the end of an advert. Draco was shaky and anxious as he waited for the tonic to kick in—surely it had been an hour? Draco knew that the priest was doing it as quickly as possible, probably under his father's instructions to get it finished before something went wrong. He hadn't looked at Pansy for the whole thing.

"And do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?"

Fuck. Why wasn't he having a seizure on the floor already? The bloody priest had somehow skipped the bulk of the ceremony and read out the whole thing in under ten minutes.

"No," said Draco. If the potion didn't kick in he was going to have to fake it.

With smug amusement, he noticed his parents and Pansy's parents glaring at him poisonously.

"No?" asked the priest, thrown off his guard.

"Wait, what was the question?"

"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?" he repeated.

"Oh, my bad. I thought you said that bit about leaving her at death, because nope, I'd never leave. I'm supposed to say no, right?"

The priest gave him a very judgmental look at the nonsense he'd just sprouted. "This is the bit where you say yes." Then, he turned to Pansy. "Are you sure you want this one?"

She gritted her teeth but nodded her head curtly. Every bit of her body language screamed _kill me now_ —meaning that Draco had succeeded in making her hate him. Excellent.

"We'll try again. Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?"

There was a tense pause.

He was about to say no again when three things happened at once. First, Blaise Zabini burst through the church doors screaming that sorry he was late but he would like to object to the marriage. Second, Ron Weasley, who was following closely, declared his undying love for Pansy and yeeted at pie into Lucius Malfoy's face. And third, Draco Malfoy groaned and doubled over in pain—the potion had finally kicked in. in his delirium, he might have imagined the first two things but he couldn't quite be sure.

"Mother," he gasped from the floor. "I do believe I am dying."

Then, fully embracing his 41 degree fever and interesting heart palpitations, he blacked out amidst his mother's screaming. He might have felt a bit bad for her if the situation wasn't so funny.

Draco woke up again at 10pm. He was in his room and he was sweaty as fuck. Honestly, he didn't think he'd ever sweated so much in his life—but true to Mundungus' word, he was feeling right as rain if not gross and thirsty.

"Master Malfoy!" the servant in the corner jumped up. "Allow me to assist, sir."

"No," said Draco, dramatically. "I'm fine. But I think I have a nasty flu," he invented, hit by a stroke of inspiration. "My friends had it a couple days ago and it's extremely contagious. I'll be alright. Leave me, for fear of catching it as well, and tell my parents they'd best not visit me or they could get sick."

The servant boy nodded and ran from the room. Perfect. Draco had half an hour to get ready and sneak out to meet Hermione: she'd planned a route to take that would be very difficult to track. The girl was honestly a genius.

After a quick shower to get all the sweat off, Draco arranged the pillows under the blankets to make it look like there was a body sleeping there. Then, he grabbed his rapier and ran to the balcony, jumping off in a swift move.

Hermione was waiting around the back of the manor, both their horses saddled and ready to go. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"I wrote a letter to my family explaining everything," she whispered. "Everything's ready. I have supplies for 5 days, in case we get trapped in the snow. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," grinned Draco.

Then, before she could jump up to her horse, he pulled her around to kiss her properly. The first of many in their new life. 


	22. EPILOGUE

There was panic in the house of Weasley in the morning. Their oldest daughter had seemingly vanished from the face of existence, and so had her twin. After some searching, Ron Weasley and his friend Blaise were recovered from the police station after crashing the Malfoy wedding but their daughter was still nowhere to be seen. Her clothes, horse and sword were missing. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she'd run away.

It was around noon when Percy Weasley discovered the note on her floor, previously left unnoticed by their family's search efforts.

_Mum, Dad and everyone else,_

_I'm leaving for now. For about 6 months, but I promise I'll come back once Draco turns 18. Yes, you read that right—I'm in love with Draco Malfoy. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I didn't think you'd take it too well and I'm certain that you wouldn't have let me go. In fact, I'm certain that you would have tied me to a chair to stop me._

_But don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I'm almost an adult, I'll be fine. We have a plan. I'm not telling you where we've gone because you'll most certainly try and follow me. Save your efforts please. I'm not gone forever._

_In hope that one day you'll forgive me for such a deed, I only ask you to consider: mum, what would you have been willing to do to stay with dad, and vice versa? Bill, Fleur, what lengths would you have gone to be together? I know you'll all say I'm too young and it's not really love but I know my own feelings._

_Forgive me and love always,_

_Hermione xx_

Mrs Weasley was fuming.

Meanwhile, in the Malfoy household, there was similar panic at the news. But where Hermione had left a touching note, Draco had not gone to the same lengths. Written on his bedside table were the following words:

_Bye bitches_

_Tell Pansy I said hi._

But before Lucius Malfoy really processed the news and could fully grieve his son's loss, the door burst open and a furious Mrs Weasley was pointing a sword at his neck.

"What have you done to my daughter?"

"What have you done to my son? He was supposed to be married but your daughter stole him away!"

As they argued, they both missed Narcissa's small smile of pride.

But as the weeks wore on and neither of their families were successful in finding their children, the old family divides seemed to blur. Although their joint efforts looking for their children were unsuccessful, their join efforts in throwing Nott Senior into Azkaban and uncovering the rest of the death eater's conspiracies worked beautifully. Now, Theodore Nott had two families to turn to in his times of need.

And half a year later, true to their word, Hermione and Draco returned to Hogwarts Kingdom to be married. After a sound scolding from their parents, they were happily married and tears of joy flowed between both families.

With their love, the decades-old hatred between the two families died out completely.

And despite all odds, for years to come Molly and Narcissa still met to gossip over brunch on Saturdays and Theodore Nott became as close as a brother to the rest of the Weasleys.

And perhaps, most strange of all, Lucius and Arthur spent their evenings together working on a 'project'. A year later and they emerged with their new product—what their wives called 'useless tinkering' bloomed into something spectacular.

Their invention? A horseless carriage.

A _car._

_~fin~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO GOOD PEOPLE
> 
> YOU'VE REACHED THE END
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIRST FIC YOUNG ME EVER COMPLETED XD
> 
> this is what i saw happening at the end, and if i could ever be arsed to write a sequel (i can't) then we'd have: 
> 
> 1) very background dramione 
> 
> 2) a Theo x Blaise ship bc Blaise is my fav character
> 
> 3) not a Blaise x Ron solely for the reason i think a Ron x Pansy have-to-pretend to be in love would be hilarious
> 
> 4) it comes about because Pansy's parents try to chuck Blaise and Ron in jail for illegally disturbing a wedding, so his defense is he had a genuine reason to object, in the form of declaring his undying love for Pansy. of course, neither of them like each other 
> 
> 5) BUT if he thought he could say that and move on, he's wrong. Pansy shows up at the Weasley's and offers an ultimatum. Her dad is trying to get her married to a man twice her age now that Draco's gone, her only way out is pretending to be in love with Ron 
> 
> 6) clearly, it's a fiasco. But Ron has to do it because otherwise, he's facing jail time. 
> 
> 7) so you get a beautiful enemies to lovers AND fake dating set up. 
> 
> 8) Imagine their arguments and the sassiness and the chemistry 
> 
> 9) yeah fuck, i really wish i had the time and energy to write this 
> 
> 10) confession: i don't actually ship dramione i just thought this fic would be funny to write.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry the formatting is really ugly but i can't be bothered to figure out how to move the pictures to the middle


End file.
